Sarah didn’t like Chad Hallahan. Didn’t respect him. Couldn’t respect a man who’d make a move on a married woman, threatening her marriage and family. Marriage was sacred. Families were to be protected.
But as she rubbed and polished the dining room buffet with the enormous arrangement of orchids, hydrangeas, calla lilies, and sweet peas, she tried to picture Meg smiling, laughing, but couldn’t. It’d been a long time since Meg had been happy. Sarah couldn’t even imagine her as light, or joyous, never mind bubbly.
What had Chad seen in her? What had they been like together? Had Chad been able to make her laugh? Was Meg happy when with him? Had he made her feel good? Girlish? Beautiful?
Sarah snapped the dustcloth in frustration. She didn’t even know why she was thinking these things. Meg was married. Married to Jack. Chad didn’t factor into the equation. He didn’t.
And yet . . .
Jack didn’t seem to want to be with Meg, not now, or in the future. And if that was the case, if it was true that he’d soon be out of the picture, then Sarah wanted Meg happy. She wanted to see Meg smile, and hear her laugh, and know that someone loved her deeply. That there was a man who wanted her, and would protect her, and stick with her through thick and thin.
But even more importantly, she wanted Meg to feel the same love and desire. She wanted Meg to run to her man the same way she herself still ran to Boone.
Heart heavy, thoughts tangled, Sarah moved into the living room and tackled the end tables before going to the piano with its half-dozen framed photos. Family shots, individual portraits, and a picture of Mom that immediately caught her attention.
It was Mom the night of her fortieth birthday, and she was smiling up at the camera, glowing in her bronze metallic gown, her dark, glossy hair tumbling over one shoulder. She was smiling with her mouth and her eyes and the photograph radiated joy. Joy and love. My God, how Mom loved Dad. And life. She knew how to live. She’d known what mattered. Faith, family, friends, community.
Hearing footsteps behind her, Sarah blinked hard and turned toward Meg with a shaky smile. “I love this one of Mom,” she said.
But it wasn’t Meg in the hall, it was Jack in shorts and a T-shirt, flushed, sweaty, tan following his run.
“I like that one of Marilyn, too,” he answered, mopping his brow. “Meg said it was taken the night of her fortieth birthday.”
Sarah nodded and put the photo back on the piano, surprised to see Jack in running shoes, looking fit and trim. She’d thought of him as academic, unathletic, but there was nothing soft about him today. “I didn’t know you ran.”
“Started to in D.C. Needed something to do when I wasn’t working.” With his hands on his hips, he surveyed the elegant living room with its high ceiling and thick white molding. “We never use this room. Such a waste of space.”
“I think it’s pretty.”
“But nonfunctional. I have a problem with that.” He reached up to catch a bead of perspiration on his temple. “I’m sure I reek. I better go shower and then pack.”
“When do you leave?”
“Tonight. I’m on the red-eye.”
Sarah watched him climb the stairs two at a time, whistling as he went. Strange to see this lean, tan Jack practically bounding up the stairs. He had so much energy. He looked downright boyish, which was such a contrast to Meg, who’d put on ten to fifteen pounds in the past six months, weight she didn’t need.
Meg entered the living room, her low heels clicking on the hardwood floor, her dark hair pulled back in a haphazard ponytail. “Did I hear Jack?”
“He’s showering,” Sarah said, increasingly concerned about her oldest sister. Meg wasn’t a classic beauty, but she’d learned to cultivate an elegance and sophistication that made her beautiful, but that elegance and beauty wasn’t in evidence today. “He’d apparently gone for a run.”
“Good. He should be in a better mood now.” Meg tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she entered the living room to take the bottle of furniture polish and dustcloth from Sarah. “Let’s get out of the house. Go do something fun with the kids.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Whatever your kids would enjoy. It’s your last day here. Let’s make it fun.”
“They like everything. We could go to a park . . . a movie—”
“How about a movie? I need to relax. Escape.”
“I’ll check Fandango and see what’s playing.”
Twenty minutes later, Meg, Sarah, and the four younger kids climbed into Meg’s Lexus wagon and headed off to see The Lorax, which was still playing at one of the smaller theaters in Santa Rosa. Jack stayed home to finish packing, and JJ went to hang out at his girlfriend’s house.