Take Care, Sara

Tim crooned about remembering him after he was gone, causing chills to go up and down Sara’s arms. The tears came then and that was no surprise, but the surprise was it didn’t hurt quite as much as it usually did. There was hollowness inside where her love for him had once been. It saddened her that that was what their love had been torn down to.

With a deep sigh, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt and pushed the button to open the garage door. The garage door rumbled up, creaking as it went, allowing sunshine and a view of the street in. Sara jiggled the keys in her hand, hauling herself into the cab. It smelled like fresh linen and a fine layer of dust covered the dash.

Sara inhaled and exhaled deeply as she sat in his truck, recollections swirling around her, sucking her into a happier time.

“We’re gonna have a little white ranch-style house ‘cause I’m too lazy to climb stairs. You’re going to plant some pretty flowers.”

“Really? You think so?” Sara grinned as she gazed at the pink and orange sunset from the passenger side window of the truck.

“I know so. We gotta make our residence presentable so we don’t scare possible visitors off.”

“Visitors.” Sara shuddered.

He laughed, deep and low. “You’re right. They’ll interrupt our alone time.”

“Our alone time or the time you’re hoping we’re spending having sex?”

“Same difference.”

The summer day was turning into night, the heat slowly lowering as dusk approached. Sara smiled, enjoying the warm breeze fluttering through her hair from the partially opened window. “And then what?”

“Then, let’s see, two kids?”

She shrugged. “Sure.” Sara glanced at his profile, watching as a slow smile formed to his lips.

“We best get started on that ASAP. That is a prerogative.”

Sara laughed, touching his lips with her index finger. “We can at least wait until after the wedding.” He kissed the tip of her finger, his blue eyes flashing heat at her.

“Right. But there’s no reason we can’t practice our form until then.”

She leaned across the console and planted her lips on his rough cheek, giving him a slobbery kiss. “Love you.”

“Love ya, babe. Even your drool.” He winked, turning his gaze back to the road.

The smile didn’t immediately fade with the memory and Sara was glad of that. She inhaled deeply, almost feeling as if he was sitting beside her, smiling with her.

***

“It’s not Sunday,” she said as she opened the door, cool air rushing into the warmth of the house, causing Sara to shiver.

“I realize that.” Mason’s eyebrows lifted as he waited.

“Uncle Mason?” a little voice chimed and Sara’s gaze was pulled down.

“Sundays aren’t really helping, are they, Sara?”

Sara shifted, her eyes never leaving the blond-haired boy with wine-colored eyes. The boy was a miniature Mason. “Who’s this?” she asked, ignoring the question that really hadn’t needed to be asked.

Mason smiled. “Can we come inside?”

She blinked, opening the door wider. “Oh. Yeah. Come in.” Sara closed the door behind them, crossing her arms and leaning against it.

“It’s obvious I’m not the one helping you,” he said. “Lincoln, right?”

Sara looked away, again not answering. Lincoln—everything with Lincoln was a mess. There were so many emotions involved where he was concerned and Sara was unable to sort through them at all. At least, not yet. The longer she kept her distance, the bigger the chasm inside her grew. She wanted so badly to go to him, but she didn’t know what to do after that.

“Uncle Mason, I’m hungry,” the boy said, tugging his gray baseball cap lower on his head.

“I know, buddy. We’ll leave in just a bit. I just wanted to say hi to my friend quick, remember?”

Uncle Mason? She offered the boy a smile. He had a serious face, his eyes watchful. “Hi. I’m Sara. What’s your name?”

“Derek.”

Sara’s eyes flew to Mason’s. He shrugged; a small smile on his face. “I thought it was time you two met.”

“Derek?” she repeated slowly. “This is Derek? The one you talk to?”

Mason put his arm around Derek, hugging him to his side. “Yep. The reason I had to get my head out of my butt.”

Derek giggled, clapping little hands over his mouth. “You said butt!”

“He’s your brother’s son?” Sara asked, blinking her eyes against tears.

“Yeah. Annie was pregnant when…” He looked at his nephew, his throat working. Mason shrugged, not finishing his sentence. He took a deep breath and continued, “I took one look at this chubby, wide-eyed baby and I wanted to live. I wanted to be someone he could be proud of.”

She knelt before the small boy. “You are one special little being, you know that?”

Derek smiled, nodding his head. “Yep. Uncle Mason tells me that all the time.”

“And how old are you?”

“I’m four and a half and I go to 4K and Mrs. Matthews is my teacher and she smells like flowers, but they don’t smell good. They stink.” He wrinkled his nose up.

Sara laughed. “Oh, really?”

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