Love Shadows (19 page)

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Authors: Catherine Lanigan

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Love Shadows
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Astonishingly, there was only one photograph of the two of them. It was taken at Buckingham Fountain in Chicago—by a stranger, as Luke recalled. Luke was in his navy dress whites and Jenny wore a sleeveless black sundress. She was as tan as a berry and her long, dark hair fanned around her shoulders as if the breeze had just washed over her. Her eyes literally flashed at him from the photograph, and to this day he’d never seen as brilliant a smile. She was his Jenny...full of life, so willing to love and not care if she ever got a single ounce of it back. She embraced every aspect of life with eagerness whether it was the flowers and herbs in her garden, the special breads she baked for him or the sound of her children playing. Jenny loved it all. And in this picture, he realized he’d seen it that day and he saw it now—she was resplendent with joy.

Joy. That was what he missed most about Jenny.

Joy at seeing the sun sift through the leaves of the Maple trees down the boulevard. Joy at feeling the waters of Indian Lake under his rowboat. That was the lesson Jenny’s life had taught him. There was joy all around him, but he had to see it. Appreciate it. Live in it.

He touched her face, but he only felt the slick paper. All around him was a sea of photographs, but it was this one that captured him. It was almost as if Jenny had meant for him to find this picture at this very moment.

“Jenny,” he whispered reverently, and was not surprised to see his tear fall onto the photograph. He wiped it away with his thumb.

Often, Luke remembered remarking to his parents and his buddies in the navy that Jenny made him feel alive. It was as if she had enough energy and life in her for two, three—even four people.

Maybe that was why after she died, he’d felt as if he’d died with her.

“Did I do that to you, Jenny? Did I put the burden of my happiness on you?” He looked around her closet at all the things he had not given to the needy, but had clung to as if they would bring her back.

Even in death, he had still put the responsibility of his happiness, his joy, his living, on Jenny. If she were alive, she would not have pulled any punches with him and would have said, “Enough already.”

Wasn’t that what she was saying here? She wasn’t in this closet. She wasn’t in the house. She was in his heart, but in the past.

Only
he
could make himself happy.

The problem was that he didn’t know how.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I
T
TOOK
TWO
days for Sarah to rehearse just how she would approach Luke about the scholarships for Annie and Timmy. She’d learned many things about Luke Bosworth, and one of them was that he didn’t take charity...for anything. He would rather die first. She had to make certain she could bluff like a gambler and fake her lines as well as any Broadway actor. If she faltered at all, he might turn on her, and then she’d have to apologize to him for not telling him the truth from the beginning. She wanted to back out of the task, but she knew that Mrs. Beabots was depending on her.

When she finally punched out Luke’s cell number, her fingers were shaking.

“Hi, Sarah,” Luke said, picking up on the first ring.

“Hi, Luke. She paused for a long moment. He had a calming voice most of the time, she remarked to herself. She’d completely forgotten the reason for her call.

“Sarah? Did you want something?” he asked. “I’m on a job and my crew is waiting...”

“Sorry. I can call back later,” she said.

“It’s okay. What’s up?”

“I was just over at the rectory talking to Father Michael about the profit we made...”

“Oh, yeah. Right. How did we do?”

“Really well. Over a quarter of a million. If I can raise another one hundred and fifty thousand, the bank will put up the half a million we need.”

“Wow. That’s great. Isn’t it?”

“It will be when I figure out where the other one hundred and fifty is going to come from.”

“You’ll do it,” he said firmly. “I have confidence in you.”

Sarah paused again, marveling at how much his approval uplifted her. She smiled. “Thanks, Luke. Thanks a lot.”

“Sure. So is there anything else?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, the subject of next year’s scholarship recipients came up. Father Michael wanted me to call you personally to tell you that Annie and Timmy were selected.”

“Selected?”

“Yes. They won the scholarships.”

“They never told me they applied for scholarships.”

“Well, the children don’t exactly apply. The tuition is just given...”

“To needy kids,” he said, cutting her off.

“No. Deserving students,” Sarah corrected.

“I’m not buying this,” Luke said harshly.

Sarah was silent. There was a long pause on Luke’s end, as well.

Then Luke continued. “There actually isn’t any scholarship fund, is there, Sarah?”

“Sure there is.”

“Since when?”

“It’s in play from time to time.”

“Let me ask you, Sarah. Did you put up the money for the kids?”

“No. I did not,” she said firmly.

“Really? Then I know just who did,” he said. “Tell you what. You go back to Mrs. Beabots and tell her it was a nice try. But my kids will do just fine in a public school until I can get back on my feet and pay for their tuition at St. Mark’s. Got that?”

She heard a deep intake of breath on his end of the phone. She wondered just how much she had embarrassed him with the offer. She knew he was a proud man, otherwise he wouldn’t have worked so hard to hold on to his house for the kids like he had. Going to the counseling sessions must have been an even bigger step for him than she’d imagined. “I understand.”

“And Sarah?”

“Yes, Luke?” Sarah swallowed hard just knowing he was about to blast her for duplicity. She closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry for jumping to the conclusion that you were behind this scheme. I think it’s very sweet of you and Mrs. Beabots to want to do this for Annie and Timmy. It was a really nice gesture. Thanks.” He hung up.

Sarah’s mouth fell open just as Miss Milse walked into the living room.

“You want coffee?”

“Yes.” Sarah smiled. “And I’ll take a slice of your strudel, too.”

Miss Milse crossed her arms over her chest. “You never want my strudel. Only for special day. That’s what you tell me.”

“This is a very special day, Miss Milse. I think Luke and I just became real friends.”

* * *

B
Y
EARLY
A
UGUST
a summer heat wave had sent the mercury in Mrs. Beabots’s garden thermometer into the triple digits. Luke had finished the carriage house and it was time for the final inspection. Along with balancing her accounting book, Mrs. Beabots believed in setting all her records straight.

“I owe you an apology, Luke,” she said as she looked at the new center beam and supporting joists in the ceiling of the carriage house.

“For what?” he asked, wiping his sweaty face with a hand towel he carried in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Trickery,” she answered. “About the scholarships for the kids.”

“It was too generous,” he admitted. “I don’t know when I could pay you back.”

Lifting her chin, she assessed him with a piercing gaze. “That’s what I like about you, Luke. You’re a lot like me in many ways. Practical. That’s a good thing. Shortsighted and fatheaded decision in this case, but practical.”

“Fatheaded?” he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I haven’t been called that before.”

“Always a first time,” she replied. “The other thing is,” she said, looking up as he turned on the two new ballasts of fluorescent lights. “Ah! I like that,” she said. “Where was I? Oh, yes,” she said, tapping her cheek with her forefinger. “Luke, how is the house hunt going?”

“Disaster. Cate hasn’t found a thing. I told my boss we need to go into the development business and build apartments and condos for this town. There’s nothing here!”

“Ah, but there is. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” she said. She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a check. “I think that covers it,” she said, handing him the check.

Luke glanced at it. The amount was to the penny that they had agreed upon. He had half expected there to be a small bonus since she was so willing to fund the kids’ schooling. “Thanks,” he said, folding the check and putting it in his wallet.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing myself,” Mrs. Beabots said.

“Thinking what, exactly?”

“Enterprise!” She beamed brightly.

He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“First of all, I want you to promise you will not take this the wrong way.”

“Take what?”

She stuck her finger in the air and wagged it. “No! Promise first,” she retorted.

“Fine. I promise,” he said. He smiled and crossed his heart. “How’s that?”

“Perfect. This is my idea. It’s because of your predicament that this idea came to me, so I thought you should benefit from it. I want to turn my third floor ballroom into an apartment that I can rent out to folks like you in the future.”

Luke’s eyes shot out the carriage house window to Mrs. Beabots’s large Victorian house. “Ballroom.”

“It just sits there. Unused. It’s a waste of space when people like you are looking for a decent home. I seriously doubt that in the future ballrooms are going to come back.”

“That could take months. Nearly a year,” he said. “Is there plumbing up there?”

“Yes. A bathroom, but it needs updating. And a kitchen, of course. I’ll get blueprints drawn up for the layout of the rooms,” she said.

“And you want me to do the construction?”

She smiled impishly and answered, “And I want you and the children to live up there while you do the work. Rent free in partial exchange for the work.”

Luke stared at her for a thoughtful moment. “We would be in town.”

“Yes. Just as you wanted. Annie and Timmy can walk to Sunday school with me. Go up town to shop and to the library. I go once every week, by the way.”

“Do you really want to do this? It’s a lot of money to renovate like that, plus the inconvenience. The noise,” he emphasized. “You’re not used to having children around. They can be a handful.”

She waved off his misgivings as if they were bothersome houseflies. “Pish posh. You have your own entrance and a back staircase. You come and you go as you please. I had a maid once who lived up there for a year or more, and I barely knew she was around. She was waiting for her husband to get out of prison. Sad story. Anyway. What do you think?”

“I’m not sure.”

“About what, Luke? In ten days you’re going to be homeless and the kids start school four days after that. Take my deal.” She spit in her hand and stuck it out.

He laughed uproariously, spit in his hand and shook hers.

“Good,” she said. “Now, let’s go up to the ballroom so I can show you just what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

S
ARAH
STOOD
AT
the pulpit after the Sunday service and announced the final profit figures from the summer festival to the congregation.

“I want to thank all of you for your hard work, your time and your money. You all made our first annual summer festival such a success. Also, I am pleased to report that Father Michael and I have met with the bank, and we have a loan for five hundred thousand dollars. This loan is contingent upon our ability to raise the final one hundred and fifty thousand for the renovation. The only way that we can raise this money is directly from all of you. Over the next several weeks, I will personally contact each of you to discuss what kind of donation you feel you can make to the building fund. I hope you don’t all run and hide each time you see my name come up on your caller ID, because you will find that I am relentless. It would be best if you take the time now to think about what you can afford before I make that call. Lump sums are always welcome, but I don’t expect that from anyone.

“Secondly, I have informed the bank that St. Mark’s will continue with the summer festival for the next five to ten years, until we pay back all of the money we borrow. In addition, if the festival continues to create the kind of revenue we saw this year, those funds will be used for the upkeep of the church and school in the future.”

Mrs. Beabots sat next to Maddie and Isabelle Hawks as they all smiled at Sarah, giving her approving nods.

Sarah started to walk away from the pulpit when she heard a familiar voice shout, “Sarah!”

She looked out to the congregation and saw Charmaine holding up her hand and then rising from her seat. Sarah’s face broke into a happy smile. “Charmaine.”

“Sarah.” Charmaine stood and looked around her at her friends in the church. “I know I speak for all of us when I say, thank you, for everything you’ve done for us. Your summer festival was successful because of your creative promotion, your organization, your impossible amount of energy and innovative ideas.” Charmaine began applauding and the rest of the congregation and Father Michael joined in.

Charmaine turned back to Sarah. “To show my appreciation, I am willing to pledge the remaining money, on one condition.”

Sarah was dazed as Charmaine announced her pledge. Her boss—her friend—had probably given her the best gift of her life, by letting her go when she did, allowing Sarah to find her purpose in life again. And now she was giving her yet another gift. Sarah almost couldn’t comprehend this kind of benevolence.

Mrs. Beabots turned around in her pew and looked at Charmaine. “What’s the condition?”

“That Sarah come back to work immediately.”

Sarah clamped her hands to her cheeks. “No way! I mean. Way. I mean, yes!” Sarah rushed down the altar steps to Charmaine and hugged her. “This is wonderful! Thank you so much!”

“You see, Sarah? I had to pledge that money. You won’t have time to be calling all these people asking for donations. You’ll be working.” Charmaine smiled.

“Yes,” Sarah beamed, a well of tears floating in her eyes. “Yes, I’ll be working.”

* * *

L
UKE
TRIED
TO
hire two of his buddies, Matt and Barry, from his construction crew to help him move, but they wouldn’t take any money.

“You can buy us some beer at the end of the day,” Matt said.

“Besides,” Barry said, rolling up his T-shirt sleeves, “when the time comes for me to move again, you’ll be obliged to do the same for me.”

“True,” Luke said. “Sorta like paying it forward.”

Barry laughed. “More like a ‘marker’ from a gambling debt. You have to pay up.”

Luke grinned. “Gotcha.”

Luke had rented a U-Haul truck to take the largest pieces of furniture and thirty boxes of memorabilia he would probably never open again, but couldn’t bear to part with, to a storage unit across town. He’d packed their clothes, the kids’ toys, kitchen and bathroom necessities, three metal bed frames and bedding in his Ford F-150. He wanted to keep only the essentials at Mrs. Beabots’s house until he got a better idea of exactly what they would need and for how long. As timely as her offer was, it seemed strange to him to think that he and the kids would be living in a construction site until next spring. By that time, new houses would become available, and he’d have Cate Sullivan start looking for him again. He hoped he could find the kind of home the kids wanted—one in which they could all be happy.

Mrs. Beabots hired Lester MacDougal to sweep, vacuum, dust and scrub the back entry and stairs and the entire expanse of the ballroom so that the area was at least habitable when her new tenants came to stay.

She had also enlisted Sarah and Maddie to carry boxes upstairs and help the children get settled in.

“Does Luke know we’re here to help?” Sarah asked Mrs. Beabots as she mixed a cup of sugar into a pitcher of homemade lemonade.

“No,” Mrs. Beabots answered, taking an apple pie out of the oven and placing it on her wooden kitchen island.

“I thought not,” Sarah replied. She took her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Luke’s number. “Hi, Luke. It’s Sarah.”

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, sounding out of breath.

“I just wanted you to know that Maddie and I are here at Mrs. Beabots’s house to help you guys move on this end. Do you need any help over there?”

“Oh, thanks. And no, we’ve got it here. I guess I’m going to have to get a cleaning crew to scrub up the place, though.”

“How about Lester? He’ll do it. Or you could borrow my Miss Milse. They could both use the extra money.”

“I think I’ll need them both,” Luke laughed. “The kids drew on the bedroom walls with chalk, which I didn’t know until we took their posters down. There’s all kinds of stuff like that.”

“I understand. What else can we help with?”

“Could I have Barry bring the kids over there and you guys watch them while we go to the storage unit?”

“Why don’t I come pick them up? Then you guys can keep loading.”

“Good idea,” Luke replied.

Sarah handed the sterling-silver spoon to Maddie. “Stir this. I have to go.”

“Where?” Maddie asked.

“To Luke’s house to pick up the kids and bring them here.”

Mrs. Beabots stuck a knife in her pie to check the doneness and stopped midmotion. “You’re going to the inner sanctum?” Maddie’s eyes whipped to Sarah.

Inhaling a deep, nerve-stilling breath, Sarah replied, “Yes.” She rushed to the little mirror that hung by the sink and smoothed her hair. She grabbed a lip stain from her pocket and ran it over her lips, making sure she hadn’t smudged it. She stuck her palm in front of her face to check for bad breath. Satisfied, she turned to her friends. “I’m off.”

“Good luck,” Maddie said and watched Sarah shoot out the back door.

Maddie turned to Mrs. Beabots. “So when did that happen?” she asked, pointing her thumb over her shoulder.

“Slowly,” Mrs. Beabots replied, eyes twinkling. “Ever since she tried to pay for cleaning his kids’ clothes after Beau muddied them up.”

“I thought he was just a diversion. You know, a summer crush or something to keep her mind off her mother’s death. But I can see it’s more serious now,” Maddie said. She looked up from the lemonade and saw concern scribbled across Mrs. Beabots’s face. “What’s the matter?”

“I just wish I could read Luke as well as I can Sarah.”

* * *

T
HE
BALLROOM
WAS
an immense expanse of honey-colored French parquet floor with high ceilings, exquisite beveled-glass windows that looked out on Maple Avenue and ornate crown molding and framework around faded and water-stained aqua-and-silver panels of French silk wallpaper. Six twelve-foot gilt mirrors hung on the walls, and three Venetian crystal chandeliers were half-covered with white sheeting.

The bathroom at the end of the room was enormous and just as elegant. It had pink-and-gold-veined marble countertops with double white china sinks in a white French provincial vanity. Above the sinks were two gold-framed mirrors. The walls were tiled in white-and-black-veined marble, and a small crystal chandelier hung in the center of the room. There were two toilet stalls, but no tub and no shower.

The actual construction required to divide the area would not be difficult. The old plumbing and electrical system would be the biggest challenges. He would need to hire a couple of his crew—Barry would definitely sign on. He’d need a very good plumber and an electrician to bring the wiring up to code. In the future, everyone who rented this space was going to need proper wiring for DSL, possibly surround sound and even 3D televisions. The kitchen would need a dishwasher, electric stove, garbage disposal and refrigerator at a minimum. All those issues Luke could handle.

Although it had been Luke’s lifelong desire to become an architect, the fact was that he did not have any formal training. He didn’t want to make even the smallest mistake on Mrs. Beabots’s project. What Luke needed was an expert interior designer and architect.

He needed Sarah.

* * *

A
T
THE
FAR
end of the ballroom, Sarah had tied a long clothesline from a French bronze wall sconce on the south wall to another matching sconce on the opposite wall.

“What’s this?” Luke asked Sarah as she picked up a king-size white sheet.

“Timmy’s bedroom wall.” She smiled, flipping the sheet over the clothesline. “It’s not much, but it will have to do for the time being,” she said.

Annie handed Sarah a clothespin. “Cool, huh, Dad?” Annie beamed.

“Yeah,” he replied admiringly and looked around to see that while he’d been hauling the kids’ duffel bags of books and toys up the staircase, Sarah had put together the kids’ beds, including their sheets, pillows and bedspreads. She’d started unpacking boxes and had hung their clothes on a rolling clothes rack that he knew had not come from his house. Against the wall, she’d lined up their shoes, backpacks, Annie’s purses and Timmy’s bike helmet and a long line of baseball caps.

“Dad,” Timmy said, coming out of the bathroom and zipping up his shorts. “There’s no bathtub in there.”

“I know,” Luke said. “Mrs. Beabots said we could use her guest bathroom downstairs until I get the new bathroom fixtures installed.”

“How long will that be?” Annie asked with a worried look.

Luke turned to Sarah. “That depends on Sarah.”

Sarah had just unfurled another sheet and flung it over the clothesline. “Me?”

“I need your help.”

Sarah pursed her lips to keep from smiling. “You need my help? Really? Why?”

“I mean I need your expertise to help me design the bathroom and the kitchen. And the living room and the bedrooms.”

Annie grinned. “Just say the whole place, Dad.”

Timmy walked up and stood next to Sarah. “Can we get a tub big enough to put Beau in?”

Luke shook his head. “What for?”

“So I can give him a bath,” Timmy replied, looking at his father as if he was addle-brained.

“That dog is bigger than you are,” Luke said.

“Not forever,” Timmy replied and walked over to a stack of boxes marked “Timmy’s Toys.”

Luke looked back at Sarah. “Better figure a six-foot tub.”

* * *

S
ARAH
SAT
AT
her drafting table, studying the photographs of Mrs. Beabots’s ballroom, the dimensions she’d taken and the initial concept drawings she’d completed. She poured another cup of coffee from her French press and looked up at the summer sky. It was a sultry night, humid and still, without the hope of a breeze. Sarah had kept the air-conditioning on all day. Fortunately, her parents had installed ceiling fans in each of the bedrooms, which kept the rooms cool in the summer and circulated the warming heat from the furnace in the winter.

She would put ceiling fans in each of the bedrooms in Mrs. Beabots’s apartment, she thought, going back to her drawings.

The back staircase opened into the ballroom and the powder room was off to the right. Sarah’s concept for the area was similar to a New Orleans style “shotgun” house, but in reverse. She would create a long hallway to the left and all the rooms would be off to the right. The master would be situated next to the bathroom, with a door that opened directly into the bathroom. All the closets would line the outer south wall. There was enough room for three large bedrooms or four small ones. Sarah decided that three was enough for a rental. Between the bedrooms, the dining room and living room would be a large, eat-in kitchen with a great deal of counter space and storage areas. Luke could make custom cabinets, or they could order cheap modular, depending upon Mrs. Beabots’s budget.

Because the area was as wide as the entire house, all the rooms had ample space for study or sitting areas. The living room needed to be at the front of the house, where the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the treetops along Maple Avenue. Even now, standing at the windows gave a similar impression to riding the Ferris wheel.

Just thinking about that night over a month ago brought a warm glow to Sarah’s face that she could actually feel when she touched her cheek. She believed Luke turned a corner that night in his quest to put his grief behind him. Until that night, for a good deal of time, Luke’s mind and heart had been so filled by memories of his wife, that there hadn’t been room for anyone else.

“Not even his children, sometimes,” she mused. “Especially not for me.”

Glancing out the window at Mrs. Beabots’s house, she realized that the lights in the ballroom were still burning. On this side of the house, the stained glass was placed at normal window height, and did not start at the floor. Peering at the window, Sarah was certain she saw Luke standing alone, looking out. She raised her hand to wave, but realized he probably couldn’t see her seated this far away from the window.

Then he walked away and the light went out.

Sarah smiled to herself as she went back to her drawing, penciling ceiling fans into each bedroom. It was amazing to her that a few months ago she felt as if she was living in a cave—alone, dark and frightened. She’d lost her job and had been confused about almost everything in her life.

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