12

Chris found it hard to keep his mind on Rita and her clipboard when Sarah and Olivia came in. What he really wanted to do was get up, cross the room, and sit down and join them for a lemonade, but after calling a brief “howdy” to the riders when they came in, Rita had returned to her plans. Chris sighed and tried to focus. It wasn’t that the barbecue Rita was detailing wasn’t important. It was, in fact, probably the most significant event in the life of the Dip ’n’ Dine since he had arrived in Last Chance. But they had been at this for more than an hour now, with Rita doing most of the talking, and he was pretty sure they had already covered everything on Rita’s list at least twice.

“This is the one thing I’m not sure about.” Rita leaned back and tapped her clipboard with her pencil. “Your music. I really think your best bet is going to be country. It’s what folks around here listen to mostly, and we have some local bands we could get. No reason to send all the way to Albuquerque for jazz when we’ve got country right here.”

Chris shot another quick glance at the counter and gave up trying to end his meeting with Rita. Sarah was getting ready to leave. He lifted his hand in a wave, called “Thanks,” and smiled at her “Don’t mention it” before returning his attention to the matters at hand.

“I think you’ll like the band I’m thinking about. They used to play in a restaurant I worked in, and they’re good. I’ve got a CD at home I’ll bring you, and if you like them as much as I think you will, I’ll give Tom a call. I’ll bet we could get them down here for a weekend.”

“I don’t know.” Rita clearly was not convinced. “I had sort of thought we’d advertise it as ‘A Foot-Stompin’ Time at the Dip ’n’ Dine.’ It sort of rhymes, don’t you think? I’m not sure foot-stompin’ works with jazz.”

“Nope, not much foot-stompin’ when these guys play. But what about this?” Chris paused for effect. “Hot Chile and Cool Jazz.”

He could almost hear the wheels turning in Rita’s head as her pencil stopped in midtap and she looked up at him. “You know, I like that. ‘Hot Chile and Cool Jazz.’” She said the words like she tasted them. “Of course, we’d have to advertise it just right, but you can leave that to me. You get me that CD, and we might just have ourselves an event.”

Rita tucked her pencil back behind her ear where she kept it for easy access and picked up her clipboard. Her meetings could seem interminable, but her comings and goings were always efficient. “Now, I’ve got places to go and things to do. I’ll swing by for the CD in the morning.”

She was out the door by the time Chris got out of their booth. She must have seen someone she needed to talk to down the street, because she waved her arm over her head and took off at a brisk pace.

Chris watched her go. If he had only thought to suggest his theme a few minutes earlier, maybe he could have joined Sarah for that lemonade after all. He walked over to the counter where Olivia was drawing on a place mat what was doubtlessly meant to be a horse.

“How’d it go?”

The joy in her face as she turned to him and began to relate her afternoon in finest detail filled his heart. Olivia looked and sounded like a happy seven-year-old, and he needed to thank Sarah for that. It didn’t matter that she made it clear that she wanted to keep him at arm’s length. That wasn’t what this was about.

Sarah laughed to herself as she drove home. Rita was no bigger than Sarah—that is to say, about five feet tall—but she had Chris right where she wanted him in that booth, and he wasn’t going anywhere until she said so. Rita just had that effect on folks. She talked. They listened. Gran was about the only one in Last Chance who could stop Rita when she was on a roll. Gran would just put her hand on Rita’s arm and say, “Now, that just sounds fascinating. I’ll have to hear more when I have time.” Then she’d smile and walk away. Briefly, Sarah wondered how it would work if she tried that approach but decided that her old method of running when she saw Rita coming was probably the best one for her.

She was caught up in her own thoughts when she turned onto her street and didn’t notice the familiar BMW parked in front of Gran’s house until she was driving past it. Then she saw Gran and her guest standing on the front porch, apparently saying good-bye. Five minutes. If she hadn’t been in such a rush to get out of the Dip ’n’ Dine before Chris finished with Rita and had waited five more minutes, she would have missed him.

Gran and Brandon saw her and waved. Well, that was it. She’d been avoiding this conversation since she got back to Last Chance, but there was no getting out of it now. Brandon had played his trump card: Gran liked him. And if Gran still thought Sarah and Brandon were friends, or more than friends, well, that was no one’s fault but Sarah’s. Every time Gran had mentioned Brandon, Sarah had made a noncommittal comment and changed the subject.

She pulled into her own driveway and shut off the engine. Good grief, Gran, you read my mind over every other thought I have. Why couldn’t you have figured out that I don’t want to see Brandon again? Ever.

She rested her head on the steering wheel a moment, took a deep breath, and got out of the car. Gran and Brandon were already walking down the sidewalk to her house.

“Look what the wind blew in!” Gran was clearly delighted with her surprise, and Sarah forced a smile for her sake.

“Hey, Brandon.” She tried not to stiffen as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. His cologne had once made her weak in the knees. Now it just made her want to cry. “It’s been a while.”

“It has.” His smile tipped up on one side, and his voice was slow. Lack of confidence had never been a shortcoming of Brandon Miller. “And that’s my fault. I’ve been so involved with getting ready for the new job and the move and everything that the time just got away.”

Sarah just looked at him. But you still managed to find time to leave a half dozen messages on my phone every day. You are such a con man.

“Well, come on in.” There was no getting around it. He was not going to go away. “You too, Gran. Come have some iced tea with us.” Please.

“Oh, no.” Gran waved a dismissive hand. “You two have a lot to catch up on, and Brandon and I have already had our visit.” She turned to Brandon before heading back up the sidewalk. “Your new job sounds fascinating, darlin’. I’ll be praying for you.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it.”

His aw-shucks humility sounded as phony to Sarah as the blame he shouldered for not coming to see her earlier, and she huffed an exasperated sigh as she headed up her walk. She did not invite Brandon to follow her, but he did anyway. She tried to let the screen door swing shut behind her, but he caught it and followed her inside.

He closed the door gently and came to where Sarah stood in the middle of the room. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he let them slide down her arms. When he slipped his arms around her waist and tried to pull her close, she stepped back.

“Seriously, Brandon? What do you think you’re doing?”

His arms fell to his side and he shrugged. “Worth a try. I’ve missed you so much. Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?”

Sarah perched on the arm of the sofa. “And say what? We went over everything a hundred times before I came home. There wasn’t anything left to say.”

Brandon ran a hand through his perfectly tousled brown hair. “Maybe not for you. But I have plenty to say.”

“And I’ve heard it all. Over and over and over. Can’t we just give it a rest?”

“Not till you’ve heard me out one more time.” Brandon swung a dining chair around and straddled it.

Sarah found herself wondering if that carefully maintained two-day stubble would have to go when he started his new job. She hoped so. It really looked cheesy. She slipped off the arm of the sofa onto the seat and leaned her head back. Her eyes closed for a moment. “Then you’ll leave? For good?”

“If you still want me to leave, I’ll go.”

“Oh, I’ll want you to leave. You can pretty much count on that.”

“Sarah, listen to me. I’m not here to play games or get involved in some sort of verbal sparring match. I came all the way to Last Chance just so I could talk to you. I knew from the outset that you’d probably do what you’re doing right now, but I had to do it anyway. So would you at least listen?”

Sarah sat up. Brandon loved recreational arguing. Whether it was politics, or religion, or just the satisfaction of having the last word, he was always up for a lively discussion, and frankly, it wore Sarah out. And often it wore her down. But this time there was something different in his tone. She looked at him and waited. Completely uncharacteristically, Brandon seemed at a loss for words. Finally, he took a deep breath and plunged ahead.

“I guess we had been dating about a year, sometime in our junior year, when I first realized that every time I thought about the future, I saw you in it with me. Every dream, every plan, you were there.”

Sarah felt tears sting her eyelids. She turned away and looked out the window.

Brandon’s voice wasn’t as sure as it usually was. “And when you seemed to share those dreams, I really felt there wasn’t a thing I couldn’t accomplish.”

“Please, Brandon . . .” The steely walls Sarah had built around her feelings for Brandon weren’t as strong as she thought they were, and some of the pain she thought she was safe from was beginning to trickle through.

“You said you’d hear me out.” Brandon caught her gaze and held it. “Just let me finish. Anyway, it did become all about my dreams, my plans. I know that. I didn’t even consider that you might have a few dreams of your own.”

“You wouldn’t even listen.” Sarah spoke barely above a whisper.

“I know. And I was wrong. I thought I would conquer the world for you, and you’d just stand there and be impressed with me.”

Sarah shook her head and laughed. “Oh, Brandon, what century are you from?”

“I don’t know. Not this one, that’s for sure. Anyway, I’ve had a lot of time to think recently, and I know this: I still can’t imagine a future without you in it. Can’t we start over, or at least pick up where you felt like I stopped hearing you? I want to know what you want. I want to talk less and listen more. Can’t you give me another chance?”

Of all the things Brandon could have said, this was what Sarah expected least. She would not have been surprised if he had trotted out his list of all the reasons why they were good together. Or if he had turned on his lady-killer charm and tried to sweep her off her feet, as if that would work at this point. But she had not been prepared for this humble and serious side of Brandon. She looked into the depths of his gray-green eyes, but she saw no game playing, no agenda. He really seemed to mean what he was saying.

“Okay, you want to know what I want? Well, in a few days you’re leaving for that new job in Chicago. I’ll tell you right now what I told you when they first started interviewing you: I don’t want to live in Chicago. Not now. Not ever. I am not a city girl and I never will be.”

“Fair enough. The company has branches other places. They’re not out in the country, of course, but some are in smaller cities, even some here in the Southwest. And there are other companies besides the one that hired me too. How about this? Why don’t we just take it slow. We can keep the door open and see if there is a future for us out there somewhere. I’ll go ahead and move to Chicago for now, you stay here in Last Chance and teach, and we can email and talk on the phone, maybe even visit each other once in a while. We’ll just see what happens. No pressure.”

No pressure. Just having Brandon in her house was almost more pressure than Sarah could deal with. Why, oh why, hadn’t she run in the house and locked the door when she saw him on Gran’s porch? Sarah looked out the window again, trying to regather the resolve that had kept her from taking any of the calls Brandon had been bombarding her with.

He must have sensed encouragement in her hesitation, because his expression changed just a bit. His smile grew just a little more confident, and he sat up a little straighter on his chair.

“All I’m saying is, let’s go back to being friends and see where that takes us.”

Sarah let her eyes meet Brandon’s again. “I don’t know. I’d like us to be friends, but I think you want us back the way we were.”

“Of course I want us back together. Did I ever say otherwise? But I’m not going to push it. You’re calling all the shots this time.”

“And if, after all this taking it slow, all the phone calls and emails and so forth, I still just want to be friends?”

“It would kill me. I’ll be honest. But I’d much rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you in my life at all.”

“Oh, Brandon, what are we doing?”

Sarah spoke more to the floor than to the man sitting across from her, but it seemed to be all Brandon was waiting to hear. He jumped to his feet and stood before Sarah with his hand stretched toward her.

“Friends?” His grin was almost boyish.

Sarah hesitated but finally slipped her hand in his. “Friends. But only friends.”

“I’ll take it.” Brandon drew her to her feet and into an embrace that even Sarah had to admit could be nothing but a buddy hug. Maybe he really did mean what he said about taking it slowly.

“Now.” Brandon smiled down at her and brushed a curl from her face. “Why don’t you go get ready, and we’ll go out to dinner in San Ramon to celebrate being friends.”

Sarah turned away from him. “No, all I want to do right now is have a bath and eat something out of the refrigerator. It’s been a long day.”

“That sounds good. You go take your bath, and I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”

Sarah put her hand on his chest. “No. I think you should go now. I have a lot to think about, and I need to be alone.”

Sarah thought she saw a flash of irritation cross his face, but it was quickly covered by a tight smile. He took her shoulders and planted a kiss on her forehead. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do. I should probably be heading back now anyway. It’s a long drive.”

At the front door, he turned and took Sarah’s hand again. “I’d like to see you again before I leave for Chicago.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

A real smile filled his face this time. “All right, then. I’ll give you a call and we can set something up.”

Sarah leaned against her front door after she closed it. She knew for sure now that she wasn’t the same woman who had allowed Brandon to plan her life for her. She had taken the initiative to end things between them, to come back to Last Chance and to begin to build a life for herself on her terms. And she intended to continue living her life on just those terms. Surprisingly, Brandon seemed to accept that, and having him as a friend again would be nice. And if he meant what he said—if he really did want to pursue a life where the hopes and dreams and goals of each of them held equal value—then maybe they did have a future together. She would let time tell. And as Brandon said, this time she called the shots.