NOTE: This story is a spin off/sequel to The Distance. It is about Sam's sister Sarah and her husband Cooper. I know a lot of people won't be interested in this type of thing. However, it does follow the plot of The Distance, so, if you liked that, you might enjoy this. If you haven't read The Distance, you may not get some of the jokes; so maybe take the time to at least skim the last four chapters or so. If you don't care, read away. This IS McSwarek, because Sam and Andy are in it. And there are some juicy parts.
Notice how I took the time to plug The Distance, like four times? ;)
This was intended to be a oneshot, but I sat down one night and started writing, and all of a sudden, had 15 pages. So, it's going to be 3 chapters. Still, short by my usual standards. I hope you enjoy it. It picks up during the flashback shown in the Epilogue of The Distance.
Sarah and Cooper lived maybe 5 miles outside of St. Catharine's in what appeared to be a large one-story on a small lake. On the property sat a large garage and a few other outbuildings, and lots of trees. So many that it must have been a nightmare to mow the lawn. She looked over at Sam.
"How can you not know anything about the outdoors when Sarah lives here?"
He shrugged. "They only bought this place two years ago; I haven't been here that many times. And when I do," he glanced at the yard, "I usually stay inside." He grinned at her. When they first pulled up, Cooper was out in the yard with his head down in the engine of Sarah's car. He heard the truck spitting gravel onto the driveway and peeked around the hood. He was wearing a faded orange sweatshirt, covered in grease smears, sleeves pushed up to the elbows. A pair of old, holey jeans rode low on his hips as he wiped his hands on a rag. Sam parked, swung himself out of the truck and walked up, and they did what Andy called 'the man hug'; a combination of handshake and shoulder to shoulder contact that lasted only a brief moment. Andy had been expecting her version of a history teacher, a stodgy old man living in tweed. But Cooper was young. Closer to Sam's age than Sarah's. Maybe even younger. And he wasn't stodgy at all.
Andy got out of the truck and walked over. And smiled, pleasantly surprised. Sarah had said he was amazing. She'd been holding out on her. The man was beautiful. Tall as a tree, his short brown hair had a little red in it, and his eyes were blue, bright in the sunlight. A square jaw sat above broad shoulders, tapering down to slim hips that led to long legs. Andy found her eyes moving over him slowly as Sam introduced her, giving her a little nudge when he realized she wasn't paying attention.
"What?" she asked, startled. "Oh, sorry." She held out her hand and Cooper grinned as he shook it. His teeth were even and white, his smile genuine and as his large hand closed over hers, Andy felt her smile widening. He turned back to the car and Sam followed him around.
"It's giving you trouble again?" he asked, his eyes still on Andy as he shook his head at her. Pathetic, he mouthed, giving her a grin.
She walked over and leaned towards him and whispered, "Tell me he runs, and I might have to rethink my options." He crossed his arms and looked at her with a small smile.
"You know you're going to pay for that, right?"
She grinned and quirked an eyebrow. "You promise?"
He rolled his eyes and turned away. "Go find my sister."
Cooper popped his head up and looked at her. "She's in the shed." He pointed to a smallish outbuilding near the garage and then once again bent to the engine. Andy looked over her shoulder once at Sam and Cooper as they bent over the engine and heard the distant chatter of their voices as they exchanged words, discussing the state of the vehicle. Clearly very comfortable with each other, she heard Sam's laugh echo across the yard and as the sound reached her ears, she felt her heart lift a little more. The lawn had been freshly mown, probably the day before, and she felt the grass against her feet as she made her way to the shed in her flip flops.
They'd left at the crack of dawn, eager to get down and spend some time before the party began the next day. Around her, she could hear the sounds of summer; birds singing, water moving, leaves rustling in the breeze. The air smelled clean; a little wet from the morning dew on the grass. Andy smiled as she realized how long it had been since she'd been out of the city. She loved her life; loved her job. She loved where she lived, but there was something about being out in the country without the sounds of traffic, or of people. She looked up at the sky; blue, with clouds that resembled scoops of vanilla ice cream. She couldn't wait to look up later that night and see the stars.
She walked up to the cement step and put a foot on it as she tapped on the door to the shed. She heard nothing but the stereo blasting something with a heavy bass beat and she pushed the door open with the flat of her hand.
Inside, the room was small. The building itself was at least twice as long and twice as wide as the small sheds Andy was used to seeing, but Sarah had every inch of space filled. The floor was cement, and it appeared that the building had been weatherized, to protect the contents from the winters. Against the far wall was a cabinet with a set of shelves above it. On those shelves sat dozens of bowls and plates with cards propped up against them, something written on them. Below the shelves sat jars of glaze, various wooden tools with metal ends, brushes and other odds and ends that Andy couldn't identify.
Along the length of the right wall there were canvases stacked, some 4 deep; some were used, some not. The left wall was covered from the waist up in corkboard, sketches and photos pinned to it in some sort of order that was obvious only to Sarah. And on a stool in the middle of the room, sat Sarah. Her curls had been pulled back, twisted up, a pencil stuck through the knot at the back. She wore a tank top and a pair of ratty, stained jeans, no shoes; and was bobbing her head in time to the music, singing to herself. She was up to her elbows in clay, foot pumping a pedal, spinning the potter's wheel in front of her. As the door swung wide, the light in the room changed and she glanced up and smiled. She waved her forward and then wiped her hand on the rag hanging over her knee and grabbed a remote from the table next to her. She turned down the volume on the stereo.
"Grab a chair. How was the drive?" Andy pulled up another stool and sat on the other side of the table, a little ways back from the wheel that was still spinning.
"Not bad. What are you working on?"
Sarah hooked a thumb over her shoulder at the shelves with the dishes. "Trying to fill some orders while I've got a little spare time. Once school's out for the summer I can spend as much time out here as I want, but these days, I don't get to do this as much as I'd like." Andy glanced over at the shelves. "Take a look if you want."
Andy nodded. "Okay." She stood up and walked over and the music turned up behind her. She moved from left to right, noting the rich earthy tones of the glazed pottery, how the browns and blues and greens all seemed to melt together. The cards all had names on them; customers, Andy guessed. She ran a finger down the side of a bowl; feeling the smooth, almost glassy surface. She glanced over the jars sitting on the cabinet, not spending much time there. She walked past a kiln, and then around the corner and started looking at the paintings. As she put her hand on the first stack, the volume went down on the stereo.
"Did you meet Cooper?" Sarah asked.
Andy nodded and turned around to face her with a smug look on her face. "A little young for you, isn't he?"
The wheel slowed, and finally stopped as Sarah's foot stopped moving and she raised her eyes to Andy's, pink rising to the apples of her cheeks. "He told you I said that?" Andy nodded, raising her eyebrows. "He's taking this spilling his guts thing a little far," she said with a short laugh, as she looked down and began separating the bowl from the wheel with a wire strung between two wooden handles. Andy watched as she walked it over and placed in the kiln. Then she wiped her hands, pretty ineffectually on the rag and tilted her head toward the door. "Let's get you settled."
They walked out and past the men who had lowered the hood on the car and were leaning against it, just talking. Approaching the truck, Andy reached inside and hauled out their bags.
"Are they heavy?" Sarah asked.
"Not too bad. Here, Sam's is lightest." It only had a few changes of clothes, an extra pair of shoes and his shower and shaving stuff in it. She and Sarah each put a bag over their shoulders and started making their way from the gravel driveway to the path leading towards the house.
"Need any help?" Cooper called.
Sarah waved her hand. "Don't strain yourself," she called over her shoulder. Andy looked back and saw Cooper's face split into a wide grin and when she peeked back at Sarah, she saw her smiling to herself.
Sarah pushed the door open and walked into the dark house, still barefoot.
"Do you want my shoes off?" Andy asked, and Sarah shook her head as she walked through the small mudroom and then opened a second door.
"Don't worry about it. We'll probably end up back outside sooner or later. No point in sitting in the house on a day like this." She pushed that door open and they walked in.
Andy laughed. "Tell that to Sam. The way he was talking I half expect to find him camped out in front of the television in about ten minutes."
"Don't let him get away with that. Cooper bought a canoe last month, and I'd pay money to see Sam tip that thing over." Andy stepped into the house and stopped as Sarah paused in front of her. She started pointing. "Closet here. This is the kitchen." It was long and narrow. Andy guessed maybe 18 feet from one end to the other. Maybe 7 or 8 feet across. There was a small desk built into the wall on the immediate right, and then counter all the way down to the second doorway on the other end of the room. About two-thirds of the way down was the oven and stove. Against the far wall sat the sink and dishwasher, and a window overlooking the side yard. Then some more counter around the corner, and next to that, a large refrigerator. Between Andy and the refrigerator sat a small table with two chairs under a window. She followed Sarah past the doorway.
She tapped on a door. "This is the door to the basement. It's mostly storage right now and I don't know if you'll even go down there, so I won't waste your time with it right now." Opposite that door was a little hallway. "Two bedrooms down here. Ours is on the left; and the one on the right is full of my stuff right now. Bathroom right here." She reached over and tapped another door.
They walked into the main part of the house and Andy finally saw something she recognized. The dining room sat in front of her. On the left side of the room, there was a fireplace, a couple of plants taking up space on the mantle. Other than that, it was just open space. On the right side, It looked the same as the picture she'd seen of it, except the Christmas decorations were gone. A large dark wooden table stretched along the wall, chairs pushed in around the perimeter. It was unfinished; the wood looked like it had been reincarnated and made into a table; maybe first used somewhere else. A metal chandelier hung above it. Looking closer at the chandelier, Andy guessed that it was handmade. It was heavy-looking and rough, but intentionally so; metal twisted in and around itself to form a sort of globe, bulbs sprouting from the middle around the circumference.
"Yours?" she asked, nodding at it.
Sarah shook her head. "No, a friend of mine did that. I think if I tried welding, I might burn the place to the ground." Then she turned around. "This is the living room."
Andy walked into the room and paused. The room was probably 18 feet by 8 feet and on either end sat a sofa. It looked like there had once been a wall separating the living room from the dining room, but at one point, someone had widened a doorway into a large 10-foot cutout. This resulted in two four-foot walls on either end that worked as dividers between the two rooms. Andy realized immediately that none of the furniture matched.
The living room looked like it had a split personality. At one end, in the middle of one of the short walls was a large flat screen and a small sectional sofa. The furniture on this end was chosen for its function rather than its looks. The end tables were mismatched, probably from thrift stores or garage sales. The couch was some sort of microfiber, in a beautiful bright blue and looked soft and comfortable, with a recliner on one end, a set of cup holders in the arm rest. The paintings that hung on the walls didn't look anything like what she'd seen in the shed. And none of them were signed by Sarah. Maybe from friends.
On the other end, sat another sofa next to a floor lamp with a huge bookshelf next to it. The colors on this side were muted. Browns and beige and green. The couch and tables on this side looked like they were purchased as a set. The shelves were stuffed with novels, and nonfiction, standing vertically, and stacks of papers, auto and travel magazines stuck in horizontally where there was room. A laptop sat on the seat of the sofa, next to a full brown leather briefcase with a shoulder strap. On the end table were two messy stacks of tests, graded and ungraded, red pens and pencils were scattered across the tops of both piles. Around the base of the table were several folders and manilla folders.
Sarah rolled her eyes at it. "Cooper's a nice guy, but his organizational skills are shit."
But the windows were what caught Andy's attention. There were two large picture windows set behind two recliners that sat in the middle of the room. She touched one of the chairs, noting how it turned easily to face the lake. Outside the window was a large deck with a few Adirondack chairs and a table.
The yard sat lower than Andy expected. From the driveway, the house had looked like a one-story. "Does the basement open up to the yard?"
Sarah nodded. "Yeah, it's a walkout."
She looked around again, smiling at the obvious differences from one side to the other. "You each have your own space," Andy said, grinning at Sarah. "This is great."
Sarah nodded. "It really kind of is," she agreed with a laugh. "It took a lot of work to get it this way, though." She moved, stepping around Andy. "There's not a ton of space, but the party is going to be outside, so it's only us in here. And you'll be on the porch, so you shouldn't have too many unexpected visitors."
"The porch?" Andy said, eyebrows raised. Sarah looked over her shoulder and grinned.
"You'll like it. Don't worry." They walked back into the open space of the dining room and through another door, opposite the side they had originally come through. After stepping through the door, Andy saw that there was another door immediately to the left that led into the kitchen. To the right, was a long narrow "hallway" that was screened in from the waist up. It wound around the corner and ballooned into a larger porch. It was shady and filled with cool morning air, and that summer smell floated back to Andy She nodded. She did like it. The room was butted up against the living room and the deck wrapped around both. Right before Andy turned the corner to walk into the "room", she saw a door set in the wall, leading outside. A double bed was set against the wall with a tiny empty book shelf next to it; a lamp sat on top of that. Sarah dropped Sam's duffel on the bed, remnants of dried clay crusted on the strap, and Andy did the same with her own.
"What if it rains?" she asked.
"We have covers. When we're not using it, they're on all the time, but we knew you were coming, so we thought we'd open it up and air it out a little. Feel free to put them back up if you get cold, or shy," she added with a grin.
"Have you lived here a long time?" Andy asked as she ran her fingers over one of the screens.
Sarah nodded and looked out toward the lake. "A few years."
"Did you buy it when you got married?"
She shook her head. "No. We got married five years ago. Before that, we lived in town. In this tiny little rental. There was crap everywhere," she said with a laugh. "This is a much better fit. Bigger, quieter, more private."
Andy sat down on the bed and opened her bag, digging inside. She glanced at Sarah. "So, you said you met at work. How did that happen?"
She paused, and for a second, looked lost in thought. And then her cheeks colored just a little, and a small smile rose to her lips.
"Something tells me this story is going to be good," Andy said with a slow grin.
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Probably not as good as you think." And then she smirked, her eyes sparkling at Andy. "Maybe boring even."
"Yeah, I doubt that."
She took a deep breath and then swung her head toward the lake. "Let's go get some coffee and sit out on the deck."
When they went back inside, the guys were digging in the refrigerator. Sarah grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and poured coffee from the pot into them and splashed some milk into hers. She handed Andy the black one and put a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back out to the porch.
"Hey," Sam said. "Where are you taking her?"
Sarah waved over her shoulder. "I'm showing her your naked baby pictures." Andy burst into laughter as they turned the corner.
"I've already seen him naked. I don't think they'd have much impact."
"And I'm sure he looks as ridiculous now as he did then. I don't actually know where the naked baby pictures are," she admitted with a grin. "But it still freaks him out a little when I threaten." They exited through the side door and Andy lowered herself into one of the chairs, and put the cup up to her mouth. She took a sip. Then frowned and took another. Something was off. But Sarah didn't appear to notice.
"So, you and Cooper?" Andy pressed again.
Sarah rolled her eyes and looked at her. "Alright. But some of this stuff, you should just keep to yourself. Sam doesn't need to know the sordid details."
Andy turned a little, perching on her side in the chair.
"Okay," Sarah said with a smile. "I guess I'll start at the beginning."
Seven Years Earlier
Sarah readjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder as she moved through the empty hallways of the high school. It was Friday, the second week of school, and she was on her way to a faculty meeting. She was late, and she knew it, but she hadn't had the heart to kick out her two favorite students. Seniors this year, they'd started working on their portfolios the year before, hoping to get into art school, and now, they both had a free hour at the end of the day for independent study. Sarah had been sitting with them and discussing their plans for the year, and when she looked at her watch, was stunned to see that the hour had gone by. The bell had rung, but they'd worked through it. So she was a half hour late. Maybe she'd get lucky. Maybe the meeting was over.
She approached the classroom and peeked in the window. No such luck. The room was full. She shook her head and took a breath and opened the door. She entered the room at the back, and gave dirty looks to the people who glanced back at her. She should be nicer, she knew, but it had been a long day.
Charlotte Jacobson, one of the chemistry teachers, was up at the front of the room, talking about the carnival fundraiser one of the student organizations was planning for later in the month. She gave Sarah a small wave and Sarah slid into an empty desk. From her left, someone handed her the sign-up sheet. She didn't look up as she grabbed it, scribbled her name, and then passed it back. Her hand touched theirs and static electricity jumped between them and she snatched her hand away, finally raising her eyes to theirs.
She didn't know him; Sarah was sure of it. She ran through her memory, trying to figure out if she'd seen him before, but came up blank. She wasn't the most active faculty member on staff; she mostly just kept to her students, put in her time helping out in other areas when required. But she was certain she would have remembered him.
His eyes were blue; the brightest, clearest blue she'd ever seen. And his hair was more dark red than brown in this light. He was young. Maybe late twenties. He sat leaned back in the desk, long khaki-clad legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He was wearing a brown sweater and had one arm folded over his stomach. The other was stretched out, hand still holding the paper she'd passed him. The one thought that passed through her mind was to wonder how someone who looked so tall could possibly fit into one of those tiny little desks. And then he blinked at her, and the spell was broken. Sarah turned around and faced forward, feeling her heart speed up a few beats.
Over the next hour or so, other teachers took their turns discussing their plans and curriculums for the year, discussing funding for supplies. Most of this had already been hashed out the previous year, so Sarah found her mind wandering and she pulled out a notebook and started sketching. The woman next to her gave her a dirty look and Sarah returned it. They weren't talking about her department. She didn't even notice at first when Mike Johnson, one of the social sciences teachers mentioned Cooper Lafferty. But she heard his desk creak as he shifted in it next to her and her ears perked up. Apparently, he'd been introduced at one of the meetings in the week before classes started. But she must have been distracted, or bored, or it had been right at the beginning and she'd snuck in afterwards. She looked over casually, and saw his eyes moving across the group, giving a little wave.
He was somewhat embarrassed by the attention, she thought. Maybe a little shy. And he had reason to be, from the way all the single women in the room let their eyes linger on him an instant too long. Sarah glanced down at his empty ring finger. He'd probably be swarmed by the time he got to the door. Again, his eyes met hers and she held the gaze for a moment and then looked away.
And then the meeting was over. Sarah quickly gathered her things, shoved the notebook into her canvas bag and then slung it over her shoulder and was out of the room like a shot. She didn't even look over her shoulder as she left.
When she got home, she'd eaten dinner and changed. She let her hair hang down her back and had put on something a little less teacher-like for some drinks at the bar with her friend. She walked in, unbuttoning her leather jacket, immediately catching sight of Kit. She and Kit had gone to college together and ended up working in different schools in the same city. Kit taught in one of the elementaries and was extremely passionate about her job. She talked continuously about her students to anyone who cared to listen, was constantly amazed by their progression. She was involved in several committees, was busy every weekend either setting up for, or working car washes, and bake sales and other fundraisers for various organizations. If they hadn't known each other for years, Sarah was pretty sure they'd hate each other.
Kit was tiny. She looked like she could be a student at Sarah's school. Maybe 5'3", almost waifish, with a blonde pixie cut and huge brown eyes. And as a result, she always had men swarming around her whenever Sarah met her at the bar. Tonight was no different. Sarah pushed past the guy that was currently leaning on the table talking quietly to her and Kit rolled her eyes at Sarah and then sent the guy back to his friends.
"I guess I don't have to ask how your day was," she said snidely, taking a drink.
"My day was just fine," Sarah replied with a smile. "Nothing special." She signaled to Dave, the bartender, and he reached into the cooler for her usual. "Did any of your little angels cure cancer today?" she asked snarkily.
"Funny." She pulled the olive out of her martini and popped it into her mouth. "I hear you've got a new history teacher this year."
Sarah raised an eyebrow at her. "Then you already know more about him than I do. I only learned his name today."
"That's because you don't listen." She gestured with the plastic sword at the people swarming around. Sarah recognized several of them from school. "The woman over there was talking about him to her friend while I was in the restroom." She gave Sarah a sly look. "Said he was sexy and single."
"I wouldn't know anything about that," Sarah said as the server brought over her beer.
"So you don't think he's sexy?"
"Kit, you've been dating the same guy for four years. Why do you even care?"
Kit shrugged. "I like to window shop." She leaned closer. "Point him out to me."
Sarah scanned the room quickly. "He's not here."
"How would you know? You barely looked up from the table."
"Fine," she said, exasperated. She stood up at the table and slowly moved her eyes around the room. At first, she thought she was right, that he wasn't there. But then a small group of women moved out of her line of vision and towards the bar and she saw him in the corner, shooting pool with some guys she didn't recognize. "There." She sat down and pointed. "The guy in the gray shirt."
Kit put her elbow on the table and propped her head up in it and stared at him. Sarah took a drink of her beer, and soon her eyes were on him too. He really was an excellent specimen. His faded jeans rode low on his hips and as he bent over the pool table, the stained glass lamp cast light onto his hair, making the red stand out again. He lined up his shot and moved the cue back and forth twice, aiming. At the last second, he sent the cue moving towards the white ball and his eyes raised, found and focused on Sarah's. A flash of recognition crossed his face, and he didn't look away. The ball he'd been aiming at slammed into the corner pocket and as he straightened, one of his friends clapped a hand on his shoulder and he broke the eye contact.
Sarah looked towards Kit who had her eyes on her.
"He was staring at you," she said, a smile taking over her face
"Maybe he was staring at you," Sarah said, blowing it off.
"Uh, no. Absolutely not." She narrowed her eyes. "So how long has it been?"
"Since what?"
"You know what I'm asking." She nudged her. "Since you got laid."
Sarah finished her beer. "You're a nosy bitch, you know that?"
"Wow, that long?" Kit raised her empty glass at the bartender and he waved back.
"Long enough," Sarah muttered.
"Maybe you should just take him home with you."
Sarah looked at her in disbelief. "Yeah, I'm sure that's going to happen," she said sarcastically.
"Used to happen all the time," Kit murmured, keeping her eyes on Cooper.
Sarah glared at her. "Well, it hasn't happened lately."
"That's exactly my point."
"I'm not interested in dating anyone," Sarah said, dismissively. "After that last douche bag, I'm done."
"No one is asking you to marry the guy. Just take him for a test drive," Kit said with a suggestive smirk. Sarah rolled her eyes and then grabbed Kit's empty glass and her bottle and walked them up to the bar. She leaned over and tossed the bottle into the trash behind the counter and Dave passed her their refills. She flashed a smile at him and turned and crashed into the person who was standing just a little too closely behind her.
Her beer was salvaged but Kit's martini was currently soaking Cooper Lafferty's gray shirt long-sleeved T-shirt. Her head jerked up and she looked at him, an apology rising to her lips as he pulled the wet fabric away from his chest. Up close, he looked even bigger. He was tall, like she'd thought; the top of her head barely cleared his chin. He was more lanky than bulky, but the forearms peeking out from his long sleeves were strong-looking, and his hands were large, fingers plucking at his shirt.
"I am so sorry," she said, reaching behind her to grab a fistful of napkins. She passed them to him and he laughed and pressed them against his shirt.
"I don't think these are going to do a lot of good," he said. His voice was low, lower than she'd expected and the timbre was doing funny things to her, echoing inside her. He tossed the wet napkins back onto the bar and looked down at her with a smile. "But now I have an excuse to buy you a drink."
Sarah had been twisted around, setting the empty glass back onto the bar and she turned slowly. "Actually, you have an excuse to buy my friend a drink. That was hers."
"Somehow I figured that," he said, glancing at her beer. "But it was a decent opener; I thought I'd better use it."
Sarah rolled her eyes and tried to step past him, but he didn't move. "I'm going back. You can give it to her yourself." She saw an opening in the crowd of people and cut through them, leaving him standing there.
She slid into the booth and Kit raised her eyebrows at her. "What did he say to you? You look…frazzled," she said with a laugh.
"I do not," Sarah said, making a face. "I'm embarrassed. I dumped your entire drink down the front of his shirt."
"You should have told him to take it off," Kit said with a smirk. "Or I guess you could save that for later," she murmured as Cooper walked up and set another martini on the table.
"I hear this belongs to you," he said, grinning at her. Kit beamed back at him and slid over. He glanced over at Sarah but she kept her eyes on the table and didn't move from her perch on the outside of the bench. So, he sat down next to Kit. He turned to her and held out his hand. "Cooper."
"Kit," she said pointing to herself as she shook his hand. "Sarah," she said pointing across the table. He turned to face her, a slow smile making its way across his face. He held out his hand and she hesitated. His smile widened in challenge and finally she stuck her hand out and grasped his firmly, giving it a shake. He held it a moment too long and she raised her eyes to his. Then they shifted over to Kit who was wearing a tiny triumphant smile.
"So," he said, turning to Kit. "How do you two know each other? I don't think I saw you at any of the faculty meetings in the last month." Kit shook her head and proceeded to tell him how they'd met in college, as roommates their first year. Sarah knew the story and she let her mind and eyes wander over him. He really was just…something else. He wasn't her normal type. She usually went for someone smaller, less imposing. Someone, quieter, who was interested in the things she was interested in.
Judging by the way he'd climbed into their booth and just jumped into conversation, he was one of those people who could easily talk with strangers; something Sarah had never quite mastered. She was good with a quick, biting retort, but the concept of small talk generally escaped her. And she felt dwarfed next to him. She could easily picture him picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder. Stop thinking about that. Okay, so she was attracted to him. There was no lying about that. And it had been a long time since she'd been attracted to someone. A long eight months. Maybe Kit was right. What would be the harm?
He held his beer bottle loosely, bringing it up to his mouth every now and again. Sarah noticed that the hair on his arms was a dark gold, that there was a smattering of light freckles peppering the skin; he spent some time outside. And his legs were long. She was reminded of that as he shifted in his seat and his knee slid up alongside hers. He didn't even glance at her, but his leg didn't move; it stayed pressed up against hers and she felt something fluid run through her. Telling herself she was just checking, just experimenting, she pressed her leg against his once, and felt a little unnerved as the pressure was returned.
She tried to think of something to say, but two guys slid some chairs up to the end of the booth and she jerked back in surprise, sliding over in the seat about six inches. They set their drinks down on the table and started talking to Cooper. He looked annoyed but introduced them as two of his friends from high school. He further explained that he'd grown up in St. Catharines, and had only recently moved back for this job. This was the first opportunity he'd had to go out with them. The one he called Brian was staring at Sarah; was leaning on the table in her space, and she turned to him and gave him a dirty look.
"What the hell do you think you're looking at?" she snapped. She felt Kit kick her under the table and she winced. "What?" she hissed. Kit just rolled her eyes. Across the table, Cooper was grinning at her, eyes narrowed in curiosity. She looked away and pulled her legs in close to the booth. As conversation resumed, she reached into her purse and pulled out her ringing cell phone. Her brother. It was too loud in the bar to answer and so she sent him to voicemail and then fired off a text, telling him she'd call him when she got home.
Brian had set his pint of beer on the table in front of him and now had his elbows on the table on either side of it. Every now and again, his arms would fall forward and lay on the table in front of him. Once, his fingers brushed Sarah's and instead of saying something that would embarrass Kit, she fought off a slight wave of revulsion and slid over in the seat a little further. If anyone noticed, they didn't say anything and she kept pretending to listen as the guys talked, as Kit talked, but didn't have much to add. Her ears only perked up when she heard someone say her name. Cooper was looking at her like he'd asked her a question.
"What did you say?" she asked. He smiled at her.
"I asked what classes you're teaching this year."
"Oh," she said, mind scrambling a little. She took a deep breath. "Well, there's a few of us in the department, and so we divide up the intro classes, and then since we've all been here a few years, and we each have our separate interests, I get pottery and I just took over the digital photography class. I'm still a little new to it, but I'm quick learner." Why the hell are you babbling? He doesn't need to know all that.
The server brought a round of shots over, ordered by Cooper's other friend Chris and passed them around the table. Sarah grabbed hers and tossed it back neatly. She felt warmth slide down her throat and spread through her chest. She took a deep breath, a little steadier. "What about you?"
He smiled again. "Well, since I'm new, the others are a little…reluctant to share some of the upper level courses. I've got a few sections of intros and one upper level European history." He had a great smile; an easy smile. Like it was his natural expression. And for some reason, it calmed Sarah a little. She felt herself relax a tiny bit as she looked at him.
Brian came back from the bathroom and instead of sitting in the chair, slid into the booth next to Sarah. She wasn't sure what time he'd come into the bar, but he was drunk; she could smell him. She slid over to the wall and shot him yet another dirty look.
"Hey, man," Cooper said. "She doesn't like you. Get out," he said nodding at him, unsmiling. Chris laughed, but Kit was looking at Sarah, her smile fading. Brian must have thought Cooper was joking and because he didn't move. Sarah moved her purse between them and then froze as she saw him put his arm up on top of the booth behind her. She took a few self-conscious breaths, feeling her heart pound just a little. She was starting to feel hot, cornered, and she was starting to panic, just the smallest bit. Kit reached out and placed her hand on top of Sarah's and their eyes met. Sarah shook her head and then grabbed her purse and stood up on the seat. She stepped over Brian, not feeling the slightest bit sorry when her purse smacked him in the face. She hopped down onto the floor and weaved through the people, toward the bathroom.
She walked across the room and down the little hall to the restroom where she stood in front of the mirror and stared at herself. It was cooler in the bathroom. The AC was pumping through the vent. She stood there a few minutes and as she began to cool down, she turned her thoughts to Cooper. To his smile. She felt herself calm down a little more. She took a few deep breaths and then closed her eyes for a moment. It didn't matter how great his smile was because she'd completely embarrassed herself. If he was a talker, it would be all over the school tomorrow that she'd been just moments away from an all out panic attack in the bar.
Mad at herself, she swore once. Then she did it again, because it made her feel better. She put her purse over her shoulder and then pushed open the door. And froze. Cooper was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Slumped over, he was closer to her height, and his eyes met hers directly. The door swung shut behind her, smacking her in her shoulders and she shuffled forward, closer to him.
"You have good instincts," he said with a small smile. "That guy's an asshole."
Sarah's hands fidgeted on the strap of her bag. Leftover nervousness, she thought. "I thought he was your friend."
"He was. Fifteen years ago."
"So you left my friend at the table with him? Nice guy," she said sarcastically, feeling the bite of her own words and inside she cringed a little.
"Actually, I think she's outside looking for you."
"Oh." Her eyes went to the exit and she licked her lips. "I guess I should go find her." She turned away.
"I'll go with you," he said and pushed off the wall, straightening up to his full height. She shook her head.
"You don't have to," she said as she stopped in her tracks and looked up at him.
"I know," Cooper said simply. He walked next to her, giving her a couple of feet of space and reached above her and held the door open for her. Sarah stepped outside and pulled her leather jacket together, buttoning it up quickly. She scanned the parking lot and finally saw her car, and Kit leaning against it, phone to her ear.
She turned to face Cooper, to say goodbye, but he just smiled and nodded to her as he turned back, hands in his pockets. Sarah bit her lip and shook her head at herself and made her way over to the car.
The screen door banged open and Sam walked out. Andy turned her head and looked at him and felt a smile spread over her face.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"Not you," he said with a grin. He looked at his sister. "Your husband wants to know what you still need from town."
"I made him a list."
"He lost it."
Sarah rolled her eyes. She looked at Andy. "I told you; complete shit. I'll be right back." Sam fell into the chair next to Andy and she sat back; both of them stared at the lake. Sam picked her cup off the table and took a drink and then made a face as he swallowed.
"Is this decaf?"
"That's it," Andy said. "I was wondering why it tasted funny."
"They must be out of regular," he said as he got up and tossed it out of the cup and off the balcony.
"I was drinking that," Andy said, peeved.
"You've been out here a half hour, and the cup was still full. And it was cold. You were not drinking it," he said holding out his hand to her. She narrowed her eyes and him and put her hand in his, letting him pull her up. She let her arms creep around his waist and pressed her nose against his neck. His arms wrapped around her, and she flattened her hands against his back, feeling the muscles move as he breathed. "She likes you, you know," he said quietly.
She smiled. "I like her too."
The screen door banged again, and Andy let go of him, turning around. Sarah came out, her bare feet slapping against the wood. "Hey, you should go with him, otherwise he'll be gone for hours and he'll come back with cereal and motor oil, and forget half the stuff on the list."
"You should be nicer to him," Sam said, grinning at his sister.
"I like it when she's mean," Cooper said as he came out behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and she leaned back against him. Andy noticed that when she did that, his chin rested right on top of her head. "Are you ready?" he asked Sam.
Sam nodded and leaned over and slid his hand behind Andy's head, pulling her mouth to his for a quick kiss. "We'll be back soon."
"Don't hurry," she said and he flashed his dimples. They walked down the stairs and around the side of the house and Sarah and Andy again took their seats.
"Where was I?" Sarah asked.
Andy thought back. "Um, Cooper just walked you out of the bar."
"Right." She nodded.
Sarah didn't see Cooper for several days. The social sciences area was on second floor, and art was on first floor, way at the end of the building next to the parking lot. They didn't have much chance to cross paths. And for that she was grateful. She'd been a little nervous walking into the building on Monday, unsure of what may have been passed along as gossip from the Friday before, but the people she was friendly with weren't acting any differently. At least he knew when to keep things to himself. Or maybe he just didn't think she was something worth talking about, she argued with herself.
She saw him once, late in the week. He was coming out of the teacher's lounge as she was walking up to it, and he turned her way. She was still a little far away from the door, and he was talking to someone, a younger woman that Sarah was pretty sure worked in the activities office. His eyes met hers, and as they walked towards each other, they stayed on her. She looked away as she passed, but swore she could literally feel his head turning to follow her. And she smiled. She walked into the lounge and grabbed her lunch out of the fridge and left the room again, making the long walk back to her classroom.
Her classroom was actually two rooms adjoined by a single door. In the main room, the larger room, were a dozen tables that looked like they had originally belonged to the science department; wooden frames with thick black tops. They were organized into four rows of three with chairs scattered randomly between them. She didn't use a seating chart. The kids were free to sit wherever they wanted as long as there was room. In the other room there were six tables, three on either side of the room, a couple of wheels, some easels. And every inch of space was covered in shelving. Basically any supply that wasn't going to be used in her intro classes was in this second room; it was a supply room used by all the art classes. And it was where her independent study students worked. She walked in and saw that a couple had snuck in over their lunch hour to eat and work and she smiled. She walked up behind a quiet dark-haired girl named Heather and watched her move her brush over the canvas.
She didn't say anything, just watched for a few moments and then moved on to Brady. He was sitting in a corner, sketchpad up on his knee as he ate an apple. He raised his eyes to Sarah when she walked up, but didn't move to show her what he was working on.
"Something new?" she asked.
He shrugged noncommittally and closed the cover. "It's just some ideas." He started packing his stuff up and she shook her head.
"Stay. I'm going to eat at my desk." She turned and walked through the door and up to the front of the room and sat down, clearing a space in the piles of turned in projects so she wouldn't spill on anything. She reached over and flipped on the small radio she left sitting on the corner and pulled out a magazine.
She held her salad in one hand and ate with the other, feet propped up on the desk with the magazine in her lap. She'd just taken her first bite when there was a knock at her door. She looked over her shoulder and saw Cooper standing there. She ignored the way her heart fluttered in her chest and waved him in with her fork and put her feet back on the ground. She put the bowl on the desk but he shook his head and held up a hand.
"Keep eating. I was wondering why I never saw you in the teacher's lounge before today."
"Excellent powers of deduction. You found me out," she said taking another bite. He sat on the edge of the nearest work table, right in front of her and she felt herself grow nervous as he continued to watch her. "Did you need something?"
He shook his head. "I just wanted to say hi. When I saw you in the hall, I was busy, so I didn't get a chance."
She nodded. "Alright then. Hi." She flashed him a smile, dimples and all.
He crossed his arms and looked at her, long enough so she started feeling a little uncomfortable. She raised her eyebrows and looked down at her lunch; started paging through the magazine. Finally, he spoke again.
"Are you going to that Welcome Back dinner thing tonight?"
Sarah laughed quietly. "Not really my thing."
"What do you mean."
"I went the first year, because I thought it was mandatory, but I've blown it off since then. They don't even ask me anymore." She was talking too much.
"It's not mandatory?" he asked, shaking his head. "Of course, it's not. Got suckered into that one," he said with a short laugh.
"Don't worry," Sarah said, looking down at her food. "It's just a quick dinner. It's still warm enough, so Matt Carlson, one of the gym teachers? He'll grill burgers and chicken and some other stuff. You'll fill a plate, eat, and then be able to take off. An hour tops."
"You're sure you're not going?"
"Uh, no," she said with a laugh as she mixed her salad up some more. "He and I don't really like each other that much."
"Why?"
"Well," she said, taking a breath, wondering if she should even mention it. Then she just figured, what the hell. "Two years ago at the Homecoming pep rally he put his hand on my ass and then I broke his finger." Cooper laughed. She smiled at him. "He's still holding a grudge." She pointed her fork at him. "So, don't believe a word he says about me. He's biased." Still talking too much.
"I'll try to remember that." She took another bite. "So, what are you doing tonight?" he asked.
She thought about it. Her big plan had been to go home and start working with a new photo editor on her laptop. "I guess I don't really know. Maybe I'll call Kit and go for a drink. Same place we were at before." That actually sounded like a welcome idea as she considered the fact that she still had five hours of work left ahead of her.
"So if I bail on this dinner thing, I might see you there tonight?" Her eyes flew back to his in surprise and for a second, she forgot to breathe. The smile had all but dropped from his face and he had his head tipped back ever so slightly. He suddenly looked like a man with a plan. Her mind zoomed back to the conversation she'd had the previous week. The one about taking him for a spin. She ran her eyes over him, hoping he didn't notice.
She nodded. "We'll be there a few hours probably."
He stood up. "Alright then." He flashed a smile at her and turned and walked out the door. It took her a moment to look away from the empty doorway and then she tapped her fork against the plastic bowl.
"Hmm."
She felt stupid. She was sitting at the bar talking to Dave, waiting for Kit to show up. She'd gone home, eaten, showered and gotten ready, actually taking the time to put on make-up and to run some stuff through her hair that made it shine in the light. And she felt stupid. She sipped at her drink, a little gin and tonic instead of beer. It was eight o'clock and Kit was late. She'd been waiting a half hour or so. But more importantly, Cooper hadn't shown up. She knew he'd never specifically said that he would make it, but the implication had been heavy. And she'd worn make-up for Christ's sake. Sarah shook her head and pulled her phone out. She dialed Kit, but only got her voicemail and left a peevish message and then turned back to the bar. Dave was watching the television mounted above the liquor bottles as he mixed drinks and she reached over and flipped open the lid on the condiment tray. She used a toothpick to stab another wedge of lime for her drink.
She squeezed it and then dropped it in, pushing it to the bottom with her stir stick. Kit slid onto the stool next to her.
"So sorry I'm late."
"You should try answering your phone," Sarah said as she lifted her glass.
Kit pulled it out of her purse and looked at it. She made a face. "Sorry. I had it turned off at dinner."
"Where'd you guys go?"
"This cute little place around the corner from our apartment." She stood up on the rungs of her stool and tapped Dave on the shoulder.
He glanced at her and grabbed the shaker and the gin.
The two of them sat there until almost ten, when Kit stood up and put her purse over her shoulder.
"I think that's it for me. I told him I'd be back at a decent hour."
Sarah looked at her watch and nodded. "Me too. I guess." She'd been drinking water for the last half hour anyway, and she could get that at home. "Let's get out of here." She buttoned up her jacket and turned to leave, and again, smacked right into Cooper.
"Leaving already?" he asked, as his hands came down on her arms, steadying her. She pulled away.
Sarah shook her head. "Sorry. We've been here for a while already. Time to go home." She glanced to her left and a little ways behind him, Kit was forcefully pointing her finger at her, the way she would at a misbehaving child, mouthing Stay.
She ignored her and tried to side-step him, but he moved with her. "Look, I'm sorry," he said bending his head down a little, his voice getting quieter, a little more intimate. "I got ambushed at that dinner." He flashed a quick smile at her, and she felt herself waver. "You said an hour tops. They kept me there forever. I came straight here when I got a chance." Sarah paused and again, looked toward Kit. Kit grinned and waved at her before turning around and leaving the building.
She took a deep breath. He was telling the truth. She could still smell the charred odor from the grill lingering on his clothing. She exhaled slowly and then met his eyes. "Fine. I'll stay for one more. But just one," she said, holding up a finger to illustrate. He smiled at her and nodded.
"That sounds fair."
They stayed at the bar, each ordering a beer. Cooper paid for hers and Sarah let him, mostly because she'd already closed out her tab, and a little because it just felt good to let him pay for her. He was talking about the things people talk about when they first meet. Work, college, hobbies. When he asked her questions, she answered them, but she never offered up any information not specifically requested. His body was turned towards her, long legs taking up most of the space between their stools. She was sitting facing the bar, but had her head propped up on a hand, and was looking at him. When she finished her beer, she signaled to Dave for another for each, and this time, she paid.
They both turned to grab their bottles and this time, when they turned back, Sarah swiveled her body. Their legs were staggered, and she felt his thigh press against hers, like it had that first night. She refused to look down, and instead watched him as he talked about a trip he'd taken to Ireland the year before. She was listening, but her eyes were focused on his mouth. Every time he paused to take a drink, he licked his lips when he finished. Finally, she set her empty on the bar and turned back to him. They looked at each other. Her eyes flew over those shoulders, down his chest, to his legs. She unconsciously pulled her lower lip into her mouth, wetting it with her tongue and then her eyes moved to his face. He looked pleased that she'd been staring. And he returned the favor. She felt warm as his eyes slowly ran down from her face and over her body. After a long moment, his eyes met hers again. He didn't say anything, but he reached up, hesitated for a beat, and when she didn't flinch, he took one of her curls in his hand, wrapping it around his fingers. He smoothed his thumb over it and let go, letting it spring back and then he looked at her, completely guileless.
"Do you want to get out of here?" The words were out of her mouth before she even realized she'd been thinking them. She hadn't intended on it. She was supposed to go home. She was supposed to leave him sitting there. But instead of taking it back, she stared at him, waiting.
He nodded. "Yeah, I do."
Reviews are always welcome. And if you don't enjoy a little deviation from Sandy, don't feel bad. I wrote this mainly for myself :)