Act 45: Sara
"Alright Scout," Sidney laughs. "I still need to breathe, so easy on the choke hold."
"Sometimes, love hurts, bro," I quip back not letting go of Sidney just yet.
In spite of his protests he's holding me just as tightly as I am him. When I let go, I grab his hand lead us to the couch.
"I'm so happy you're here!"
"Me too, I was beginning to miss your sticky face!" he replies before pinching my nose.
"Don't!" I warn him but we immediately engage in a light wrestle with tickling, light slapping, hair ruffling and nose stealing.
"Stop it," I laugh. He managed to take the advantage, he's holding my head in the crook of his arm, ruffling my hair with the knuckles of his free hand. "Stop," I poke him on his weak spots and he squirms a bit.
"Fine, fine!" he relents with a chortle. He kisses my crown then lets go of me.
"So how long do I have you for?" I ask while rearranging my hair.
He looks at his watch. "Let's see… five hours and some odd minutes."
"Cool, plenty of time to talk, kick your ass, grab a bite, kick your ass again then take you back to the airport."
"I like that plan, except your ass is the one getting kicked."
I snort. "As if."
He pinches my cheeks affectionately "Don't be cocky."
"It's not being cocky if it's true!"
"Ah ah…" he makes a funny face.
"Anyway tell me again how you came to have business in Vegas."
"About two years ago we had a couple staying at the B&B, they liked the furniture and made an order. Then through I don't know how many degrees of people some word to mouth led us here. Lawrence and his partner Jenny want to make a café library kind of thing. I met them today, we talked and work on ideas for a design. Now we have an order to deliver in a month. If they like it we'll have a new client."
"That's awesome!"
"It is," he nods. "You know, it amazes me how people connect… something random happens, it goes then comes back to you again."
"That's the beauty of the world," I agree. "This is great, if it works it'll mean more exposure and possibly more orders."
"I know right," he nods. "It's not like we were struggling but more work is always a good thing."
"True."
"Who know you might have to quit your job and come back to the shop."
"I think that we've established that I've lost my touch when we were working on the guitar."
"Please, you were just nervous because it was for your girlfriend."
I can't help the goofy grin adorning my lips at the word girlfriend, as high school as that sound.
"You know, we might actually have new staff soon," he tilts his head.
"How so?"
"Spence and Keith mentioned wanting to learn the craft," he refers to his daughter Spencer and one of Charlie's sons.
"The Sidle dynasty is in good hands then."
"Next summer we'll start walking them through the bases, we'll see from there."
"How is the rest of the little tribe?" I ask about my other nephews and nieces. He gives me the latest news, even though I've spoken to almost everyone recently.
He stares at me then narrows his eyes at me then tilts his head. "What?" I ask confused at his scrutiny.
"You're in a good mood"
"Why shouldn't I be? Everything is fine and you've come with good news."
"True. But absolutely nothing I've said warrants that idiotic smile of yours."
"You know what I love about you Sid?" I ask rhetorically. "It's that you're always so mindful of my feelings."
"I know, I'm a sensitive guy," he replies with sarcasm. "Go on, spill."
I sigh dramatically. "Two weeks ago I've said the three words to Catherine," I bite my bottom lips to contain the grin trying to split my face in half.
He sits up straight "Wait, what? No! I… I don't… why?" he exclaims with something akin to panic.
I frown at him then understanding kicks in. "I love you," I specify with a roll of my eyes.
"Yeah, I love you too, I still don't …" he replies absentmindedly. Amazingly enough, sometimes, I forget that my brother can be a bit denser than mercury.
"No, you doofus," I cut him off. "Those are the words I was referring to," I spell out.
"Oh," he seems stunned for a second then he beams.
"Duh," I reply.
He takes a slight offense at that. "Can you honestly blame me? I mean…" he starts but knowing what's coming I argue back and we end up trying to talk on top of the other.
"Why would I be smiling if the three words were 'I want out' or 'we are over'?" I ask in disbelief.
"I know! Hence the confusion…"
"Dude, seriously is the Nevada heat making it hard for your brain to receive oxygen?"
"Oh well, excuse me, but the records of the past decades speak in my favour!"
I roll my eyes. "I'm smiling, how big a clue do you need?"
"I'm just saying!"
"You know this is why we always lose when we played the scavenger game," I reflect on a second thought.
"We don't always lose!" he protests.
"You can't put pieces together even with a map and blueprints!"
"Oh very spiritual."
"It's true!"
"One time… I didn't get the clues, one time!" he holds one finger up to make his point. "Let. It. Go! Geez… I mean…"
I shake when I realize how far off track our bickering is taking us. "Whatever…" I interrupt his rant. "Let's back up."
"Alright."
"Are you ready?" I ask and he simple narrows his eyes at me. "Okay, okay, just checking" I raise my hands in surrender. I take a second then bring us back to the derailing point. "Two weeks ago I told Catherine that I loved her."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," I confirm. "And ever since, my body has turned into an endorphins factory working on mega overdrive."
He starts laughing. "Now I get the idiotic smile."
"Seriously, I wonder if I can OD on happiness."
"Okay, let's be clear about one thing if you start to break into songs while speaking to me, I will tickle you to death," he threatens. "Idiotic smile, bubbly mood, the whole walking on a cloud thing is fine but I draw the line at singing… cause you are terrible," he adds with a smirk.
"Oh my, you ate a clown this morning."
"Nah, you know I've stopped eating them, they make my stomach funny," he casually says, scrunching up his nose.
I stare at him completely dumbfounded. "Wow," I utter flatly. "Every single cool point you've ever earned just dropped at the bottom of the lameness pit."
"It was funny," he defends himself. "Besides, I'm too cool to ever be lame."
"Ah!" I snort and put a hand on his shoulder. "Keep telling yourself that, Sid," I wink.
He tickles me a bit then stops and becomes serious again. "I'm beyond happy to see you like this," he states. "You know, for a long time I wondered if we'd ever find the equilibrium… if we'd be emotional fit to have what mom and dad had when… things were… good. You know?"
I nod silently in response.
"I've worried about all of us… but especially you," he confesses. There's a long pause and I don't need him to elaborate, I know what he's talking about. There are things only he and I share, things that toughened us up. "Maybe it's because I'm your big brother," he adds to lighten up the mood.
I let an exasperated sigh out. "I was born 1 minute and 43 seconds before you," I roll my eyes.
"Well that still makes me 1 minute and 43 seconds older than you, in twin time that's the equivalent of a year."
"Whatever," I give his head a gentle shove.
"Be nice," he warns me with a smile. He observes me intently then speaks again. "The swings are still getting worse?"
"Yeah, and frequent too," I nod before crossing my arms over my chest.
"You're holding up?"
"I do, and she has a lot to do with it though she doesn't even realize it," I shake my head. "She'd make the tiniest gesture right when I'm slipping in a mood, and suddenly I can breathe again even if it's just for a minute."
I struggle to find my words for a few seconds. "I can feel a fit coming and she says something or does something, and I feel grounded again. She's like a piercing ray of light coming through thick cloud, with very little she can give me the assurance that things will be better."
I pause, nervously I'm clenching and unclenching my fists. "You know, for the first time I want to tell it all to someone that isn't… one of us."
"It's a good thing," he assures me.
"I hate that part of me," I spit with irritation. "I want her to know because I can't get rid of it or ignore it. I want her to know so she can understand… but most of all I want her to know because I refuse to let this get in the way of what I'm feeling now."
I start rubbing my hands on my thighs. "Even though there's a possibility that it might change everything… I'm ready to tell her," I confess.
Sid stares at me for a minute before speaking again. "It'll be alright, I know it will," he says with confidence. He passes an arm around my shoulders and brings me closer to him to kiss my temple.
I won't lie I'm scared out of my wit to open my Pandora's box to Cath but I want to believe that Sid is right, that it'll all go fine.
I enjoy his protective embrace for several minutes, glad to have told him what has been on my mind lately.
"On the gossip front, Howie and I suspect Hazy to have a secret admirer," he declares after several minutes of silence.
I perk up at his change of topic. "Really?" I smile.
He proceeds to tell me about his suspicions and the clues that might support it. We spend the rest of the day laughing together and playing. All too soon it's time for me to get him to the airport.
Afterwards I call Linds to let her know that I was on my way to pick her up from her friend's. It takes me thirty minutes to get there and after a slightly awkward moment with her friend's mother, we both get on our way back to Cath's.
Once I park in Cath's driveway Linds doesn't make any move to get out. "Is everything alright, Short Stuff?"
She's startled. "Yeah," she quickly answers before getting out. I watch her go sensing that something is wrong.
Since Cath isn't back from her day out with Jude yet, I'm alone with Linds. I've been pacing in the living room for the past twenty minutes wondering if I should go to Linds and try to talk to her or if I should wait for Cath and have her talk to Linds.
I'm not sure how to handle this, but something tells me that if I wait for Cath in way that'd be like saying that I don't consider Linds to be my responsibility. I don't want to overstep on Cath's parenting but I think I have to step up in this case. Besides there's no guarantee Linds will want to talk about whatever is bothering her with me, at the very least I can let her know that I'm here if she wants to.
I walk to Linds' room and exhale once I'm in front of her door. I rap my knuckle against the wood and wait for Linds' permission before coming in. She's sitting on her bed with a book in her hands, she looks up as soon as I enter.
"Can I sit?"
"Sure."
I sit at the foot of her bed in a way that allows me to face her. "I don't know how to go about this so bear with me, please?"
"Okay," she replies cautiously with a small frown.
"I have the feeling that something is bothering you. I want you to know that if you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you."
Linds keeps staring at me but her expression is undecipherable.
"I'll make you a promise. If you ever talk to me, I'll never judge, I'll always try to keep an open mind, and I'll always, always respect your confidence."
I know I'm treading on uncharted territories. I want Linds to be able to confide in me, but I don't want her to think that she can use me to keep things from Catherine.
"I'll never betray your confidence," I repeat. "That being said I'm an adult, therefore I have to be responsible at all time. What I mean is that if I deem it necessary, I'll encourage you to talk to your mother about what you tell me."
I let out a deep sigh. I know that I probably just gave her a reason never to confide in me but I'm just being honest. "I don't want to be in between you and your mother and…"
"You don't want me to use you as a way to lie to her by omission," she finishes for me.
"Exactly."
She nods in understanding.
"I only ask for one thing," I raise a finger to make my point. "Always tell the truth. I'd rather you tell me you don't want to talk about something than you lying to me. I know that sometimes the truth is ugly, but no matter how bad things are, always be truthful."
She extends her hand toward me and I understand what she wants without asking. I take her hand in mine we both make our secret handshake. "I promise, I promise, I promise," we say in unison.
I wait a moment in case she decides to talk, when she doesn't I decide to give her space. "Okay, I'll let you read in peace," I pat her leg then stand up and leave.
I'm in the kitchen pondering what to prepare for dinner when I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around and see Linds tugging at one of her sleeve in a nervous gesture.
"Can I help you with dinner?" she queries.
"Sure," I nod. I ask her what she fancies for dinner then we get started.
After five minutes of silence she starts talking, she tells me about what's in her mind and I just listen attentively. Something happened with her friend and she's not sure how to proceed. I make sure not to miss anything, registering as much information as I can not to be lost as to who is who and who did or said what, so I don't have to interrupt her to get clarification.
When she is done, she actually has to give me a cue to take my turn to speak and give her my input. I give her my opinion with no sugar coat or metaphor. I won't lie I'm not in my comfort zone giving advices to a teenager, I think she noticed that much, she doesn't seem to mind my bluntness though.
We talk through the issue and I let her decide when to change the topic. She stirs the conversation to something lighter, we start to joke around and by the time Catherine comes home we are laughing about silly things.
We have dinner then play some board game before calling it a night.
"How was your day with Sid?" Cath asks from the bathroom.
"It was good."
"I'm sorry, I missed him. I wish I could have had some time to catch up."
"Yeah, so did he, but he'll come back. We might have a new client in Vegas for furniture."
"That's awesome!"
"It's still early but yeah, hopefully things will pan out," I shrug. "How was your day with Jude?"
She sighs dramatically. "I swear shopping with him is dreadful, he's so picky it's a pain," she says, rident. "Five hours running around store after store and we only got two suits… and don't get me started on the ties, I was seconds away from choking him with one."
She enters her bedroom rubbing cream on her hands. "Anyway, now he's going to look like a million bucks for his big presentation."
I wait for her to sit down on the bed then I lay my head on her lap. It's a little ritual we've developed before sleeping. We talk or sometimes we read each in our corner, the only constant is the gentle thread of her fingers through my hair, it relaxes me and makes me highly content.
I close my eyes to let myself completely go to the sensation for a moment.
"Cath?"
"Hmm?"
I open my eyes to look up at her, she's grinning affectionately at me which is the little push I need to continue. "I know I'm difficult lately with my… agitated sleep and my mood swings…" I grab the hand she has resting on my stomach and bring it to my chest, over my heart. "I want…" I trail off and shake my head.
She doesn't say anything, sensing that there's more, she just waits for me to talk in my own time. "I'd like to talk to you about those… things… about all of those things…" my mouth feels suddenly dry, though I'm ready – as much as I'll ever be anyway – to talk, I'm still nervous and just thinking about it all pushes me in a state of panic.
I take a few deep breaths to steady myself. Cath doesn't stop her gentle caresses on my scalp and I'm grateful for that because it keeps me grounded. "It's hard to talk about this… because I've never told… anyone that wasn't my siblings…but I want to… I want to tell you so… I thought that maybe… the next night off we have and when we don't have plans with Linds… maybe we could stay in and try to talk…"
"Any time, don't worry. Whenever you ready is good for me, I'm not going anywhere," her eyes are shinning when she speaks, for a second I'm afraid she might cry.
"I know," I nod. "You're being very patient with me, and I'm immensely grateful for that."
"You're well worth the wait," she smiles tenderly.
My heart flutters at her sincerity. "I love you," the words pass my lips easily.
I bring a hand in the back of her neck to close the gap between us and kiss her hoping to convey how much I feel. And though she has never returned those words to me, every touch, every words, every little thing she does are testimonies of her feelings and that's all I need.
As fate would have it, things always get in the way so that two weeks after telling her that I was ready to talk, we never manage to have coinciding nights off, much less coinciding nights off without plans involving Linds.
"Hey Sar, I got you a veggie one," I look up from the file I'm reading and see Greg holding bags from a familiar diner.
"You're the best, Greggo," I smile, touched at his spontaneous gesture.
"I know," he wriggles his eyebrows then winks and I roll my eyes in response. Years later he's boyish flirting and innuendoes still amuse me. He puts one of the bags on the coffee table in front of me then goes to sit at the table of the break room and starts unpacking his lunch.
I keep reading my file, wanting to finish it before eating.
Two minutes later Catherine, Warrick and Nick fill in the room. Warrick drops a heavy bag on the table while Catherine and Nick gather item such as napkins, plates and water bottles before sitting at the table with Greg. I catch Catherine's eyes and wink at her, she smiles in return then sits down.
"How did court go yesterday?" I hear Warrick ask.
"Good, verdict should be today, but Beverly said there's no way the guy is walking away. Honestly I don't know whether to be happy or sad about it," Nick replies with a sigh.
"What was the case?" Greg questions.
"James Carver, 28, architect," I answer before Nick, never stopping my reading.
Warrick, Cath and Nick chortle, but Greg doesn't. "How did you…" he starts but Warrick cuts him off.
"Sara always knows everything," he wisely informs Greg.
"Yup, I see all, hear all, know all," I look at Greg "Almighty me," I add with a smirk.
"Anyway, yes that was the case," Nick gets the conversation back on track. He reminds Greg of the specifics of the case and gives the detail encounter of his court day.
"It always baffles me, the disparity between what people do and who they are," Greg reflects out loud. "I mean, the guy seems like the cool guy next door."
"Greggo, there are a few things that job teaches you," Catherine starts. "One, everybody has a breaking point. Two, anybody, and I mean anybody is capable of doing things so vile they make your worst nightmare seem like a dream with rainbows, unicorns, fluffy clouds and puppies."
"I like to think that I'm above that," Greg replies, obviously not receptive to that point of view.
"Like I said, we all have our breaking point. I don't care how high your moral standards are, or how good you think yourself to be; you're capable of the best and you're capable of the worst, just like any of us in this room."
"She's right," Warrick agrees.
"You know, in Carver's case I think it was just a matter of time before he crossed the line," Nick puts his two cents in.
"What do you mean?" Greg is intrigued.
"Look at his background. He had known priors with assault, and only got off because charges were dropped. He had a history of violence. I mean, prone to sudden mood changes and enraged outbursts. To put it simply he was a ticking bomb, and every time he took it up a notch," Nick shrugs.
"I thought you said he had grown up in an abusive household, with his stepfather and all, doesn't that count for something?" Greg argues
"It does, but I think he was naturally violent."
"Rick, you agree with that?"
"Everything supports that theory," Warrick stays non-committal
I feel lightheaded. It takes me a few seconds to realize that I'm holding my breath. I hate the turn that conversation is taking because suddenly they're not talking about some random guy, they're talking about me.
When Greg calls Catherine so she can express her opinion my mouth goes dry and my heart that to beat furiously in my ribcage. I try to focus on my reading again but no words penetrate my mind.
"I look at Carver and I think there's truth in the statement that you can't wipe the spots off a leopard," Catherine replies with pessimism.
"You guys are so cynical," Greg observes.
"This job will do that to you," Warrick shrugs.
"No, I want to believe in people."
"I do believe in people," Cath counters. "But…"
I feel nauseous. The blood pulsing in my ears blocks the most of the conversation out. I hear the words 'inevitable', 'unfit', 'morally screwed up' and 'dangerous' bounce around, among others.
"…I'd never trust someone like Carver. I mean knowing how instable he is… I feel like it'd be highly irresponsible to let someone like that around people. It's like taking unnecessary risks. I know I'd never be comfortable around them and I certainly would never let them anywhere near Linds or anyone of my family for that matter. And that's not being cynical, it's just common sense…"
It's like there was a thin layer of ice forming in the pit of my stomach. I try to fixate my mind on my report even though nothing registers. I need an anchor, anything so I can get a grip. Panic is rising which means that I could have a fit, right here, right now and this is not good.
"I can see the logic in your argument," Greg concedes.
"Anyway…"
I can't breathe… I need to breathe…
"Sara!" I jump in surprise when my name is shouted. I look at the table and three pairs of eyes are staring at me. "Your phone," Nick points out.
I only realize now that my phone is ringing. I fumble with it and pick up. "Sidle," I barely register what's said on the other end of the line. "I'll be right there," I announce before hanging up.
I gather my file then bolt up from the couch. "Got to go," I inform exiting the break room. Greg shouts something at me but I don't pay attention.
My hurried steps take me to the locker room, I can't help pacing to try and calm down, tame the beast before it unleashes itself.
I stop abruptly and place my forehead against the cool metal of my locker. I feel my lungs with as much oxygen as possible but I can't suppress the feeling of suffocation.
The whole debate plays over and over in my head.
Fuck.
I can't tell her, I can't tell Cath about me. If I do she'll run as far away from me as humanly possible…
I can't lose her…
I need to breathe.
Heat is spreading in my entire body and suddenly it's like I was burning from inside. It takes all my willpower not to completely lose it, right at this instant.
An unwanted tear roll down one of my cheeks, I taste the salty liquid once it reaches my lips. There's no room for mistakes, if I lose it now, I lose everything.
Figures, everything was too good to last.
"Fuck…"
