Chapter 20- "You were my last luck"
For the next three days, Sakura retreated behind her bedroom door. The phone's sudden ring upset her, so she turned it off. She refused to talk to the police. She ignored reason from her mother, frightened please from Sarada, and the TV was her twenty-four hour companion.
On the third night, Sakura lapsed into agitated sleep and Sasuke came to her. He stood on the lawn, dressed in white clothes that glowed in the moonless night. She pulled at his clothes, called his name, but he wouldn't look at her. Then he floated off.
"Sasuke, wait!" Sakura cried out and bolted up panting. The dream was so real she stumbled out of bed and pulled open the curtains.
Sakura took it as a sign he coming home. She showered, put on one of his favorite dresses, and by the time Mebuki and Sarada woke up, Sakura had coffee brewing and the breakfast table set. Then she went to help Sarada get ready for school.
Sarada looked confused as she came out of her bathroom in her underwear. "Mommy? You're not sick anymore?"
"No, honey. I'm not sick. Get me you comb and brush." Sakura eased out the tangles in her daughter's hair. "I guess you Gram is out of practice on hair combing."
"Is Daddy's gonna die?"
"No, Daddy's not gonna die, Sarada. Is that what you think?"
Sarada nodded slowly. "He's been in the hospital so long."
"I think he'll be here soon! Maybe even today!" Sakura finished combing her hair. "Now, finish getting dressed and come get your breakfast."
When Sakura got to the kitchen, Mebuki was at the table, putting sugar in her coffee. "Well you know something I don't.
"Uh-uh, I just remembered that I can't give up hope."
"Sakura, you have to be doing something, hoping don't make it so."
"Momma, it'll be all right." 'And Sasuke will be here in time to explain where your money is, so I won't have to.'
In a few minutes Sarada sauntered in and sat down in her chair. "Can't I stay home from school and wait for Daddy, too?"
"You most certainly cannot!"
Sarada rolled her eyes and played at eating.
"Did you do your homework?" Sakura peered over the rim of her juice glass.
"You haven't been caring if I did my homework." Sarada bounced the heel of her sneaker indignantly against the chair leg and sloshed her spoon around in her bowl of cereal.
"Sarada stop making a…"
Mebuki jumped in. "Of course she cares, honey. Your mommy hasn't been feeling well. But we're sure glad she's better aren't we!"
Sarada shoved her bowl away, spilling milk and soggy cereal. "Yeah… I guess so…" She snatched her backpack and disappeared out the door.
Open mouthed, Sakura stared after her.
"What do you expect? Her father's nowhere to be found, you hole up in your room and won't talk to her, and she's losing her best friend. Of course the child is upset. You have to be strong, teach her how to be strong."
"I know. I'll do better. And when Sasuke gets back…"
"If you know when that's going to happen, I wish you'd tell that detective woman who's been calling everyday. She's getting on my nerves. Ms Banks left a lot of messages too."
I'll call them both after I clean this mess up."
"Have you thought about talking to a lawyer?" Mebuki asked.
"Momma," Sakura cautioned. 'I will not have this conversation.'
"Fine. Have it your own way." Mebuki turned her attention to her coffee.
Mrs Banks was in a hellacious mood when Sakura called. "Everybody and his brother is calling her, blessing me out and looking for money."
"Please give him a little time." Sakura didn't know what else to say.
"Mrs Uchiha, that's all its going to be. A little."
The detective apologized for all the questions she had to ask about the money irregularities at the business. "This is a lot like a puzzle. The only way we can solve it is to fill in the blanks." Bottom like though, she had no leads.
For week Sakura maintained her usual routine, keeping up appearance the way Sasuke always expected. She paid the utility bills from her checking account and ignored Mebuki's cautions about spending. "We have plenty to get by on," Sakura lied.
When her mother broached the subject of a job, Sakura dismissed it. "Sasuke doesn't want me to work." And that was that. Her head promptly went back in the sand.
Once, she came in the empty house and got chills, overwhelmed by the sensation that Sasuke was there. It was like she could feel him, smell his after shave. "Sasuke, where are you?" She called. She ran to the den, up to their bedroom. "How could you just disappear?" She sank onto the bed. 'And what would I say if you answered?'
Sakura had to let the housekeeper go. Mebuki helped with the cleaning, and items were more out of place than before. Sakura was sure she put her engagement ring in the crystal box on her dresser as usual, but she didn't have the heart to complain when she couldn't find it, especially since more than 80K of Mebuki's was missing. 'It'll turn up.'
Sarada grew more sullen and withdrawn by the day. Sakura made sure she was clean, fed, and chauffeured, but kept her in the dark about her father.
"Why should I confuse her?" Sakura filed her nails and Mebuki watched TV. Sarada was in her room doing homework, and Sasuke had been gone five weeks.
Mebuki hit the mute button on the remote. "You know, keeping a secret was the worst mistake your daddy and I made in raising you."
Sakura looked up from her base coat. She and her mother didn't talk about "that." They had made their peace, and one of the provisions of the unspoken treaty, was to let it lie. 'Why bring this up now?' "You didn't make a mistake, and I'm not making one either."
"When you were old enough to understand, you had a right to the truth. Your daddy would've told you, but I didn't want you or anybody else to know you weren't my blood child."
"You and Daddy were protecting me. And Sarada is too young to worry about this."
"She's already worried! Can't you see it? What if she hears it from somebody else? You know what happened when you found out the truth. Don't you want to spare you own child from feeling like that? I wasn't protecting you, baby, I was protecting me. And that's what you're doing with Sarada."
Sakura didn't answer and went back to her nails, her head poked deeper in the sand.
In early November Mrs banks quit and the week before Thanksgiving the marshal padlocked the business. Almost daily the mail carrier brought stacks of mail forwarded from the business, and Sakura signed for registered letter addressed to Sasuke. She kept them neatly stacked and unopened in a drawer of the breakfront.
Jugo called once. "I'm checking on the man of yours. I haven't seen him for a while. He's not still in the hospital?"
"Ah..no. He's been kinda busy, Jugo." She considered telling him, but decided the fewer people who knew, the better.
"Tell him I was asking for him. And you tell him to bring you in here. I haven't seen your lovely face in far too long."
Days later, Sakura and Sarada were on the way out when the detective showed up at the back door.
"There's a few things I want to run by you. Is that your daughter? What a beauty. You'll have your hands full when she gets older." She smiled at Sarada, who shot her the "who are you?" look.
"Thank you," Sakura said. Sarada, go on out and wait for me by the car." She slunk away with a toss of her ponytail.
"We've established that you husband was a regular at a restaurant called Jugo's. Are you familiar with it?" The detective looked down at her notes.
"Jugo and Sasuke have been friends for years. We both went to the restaurant."
"Mrs. Uchiha, Jugo runs one of the biggest bookie operations in the state. Controls all the book… horses, numbers, and sports action." She looked at Sakura, waiting for a response.
'Jugo?' "My husband doesn't gamble…anymore. He used to, but…"
"Mrs Uchiha, Jugo is a powerful and dangerous man. We haven't been able to catch him with his hands dirty, but you should keep your distance. It's very likely that both your husbands assault and disappearance are linked to him."
"I spoke to Jugo a couple of days ago. He wanted to know how Sasule was doing…"
'Jugo couldn't possible have anything to do with this.'
"I bet. Did you tell him anything?"
"No."
"This is a little awkward but our information is telling us Mr Uchiha's…ah recent misfortunes are linked to a special betting line Jugo ran for the world series that went sour. Apparently you husband was involved."
"I don't know what you're talking about, and I'm sure Sasuke doesn't either." 'Am I?'
"We're talking hundreds of thousands of dollars in losses. That can make nasty enemies. It boils down to the fact that we're looking for Mr. Uchiha, but so are they. I hope we find him first."
"Who told you Sasuke was involved? They could be making a scapegoat out of him."
"Mrs Uchiha, let me assure you my interest…"
"And if you find him first are going to bring him home or arrest him?"
"The department wants to get your husband home safely. As far as any connection to Jugo, our sources are reliable. It looks like you husband got in over his head. It happens. We don't plan to charge him but Jugo doesn't forgive or forget. If Mr Uchiha can help us get Jugo, it would keep a lot more people out of trouble, including himself. So, if you hear from either one of them, I'd appreciate it if you give me a call." The deceptive walked down the driveway and got in her unmarked car.
'Sasuke? Jugo? I don't believe it. It doesn't make sense.' Undeterred, Sakura went shopping for ingredients to make Sasuke's favorite Thanksgiving dishes.
That Tuesday the school principal called to tell her Sarada had been suspended for fighting. When Sakura got there Sarada was waiting in the office, red-eyed, hair disheveled, a scrape across her cheek. Her blouse was torn, and blood speckled the collar. Sakura felt disconnected, as if this was someone else's problem child, not the daughter who had a fairy-tail room in a dream house.
Sakura minced her way through a very uncomfortable parent-teacher conference. It seems Sarada had become lackadaisical. She wasn't participating in class, her work was slipping, and now the fight. 'Not my child.' Sakura folded her hands in her lap and stared at the chalkboard, her blinders firmly attached to her rose-colored glasses. But when the teacher offered counseling service if there was "anything going on in the home," Sakura was momentarily blinded by the harsh glare of reality and it made her mad.
"That won't be necessary," Sakura answered dryly. She simmered in silence in the car, but by the time she got home she had reached a rolling boil. "What do you have to say for yourself? Brawling in the halls, really? Sarada sat down in a kitchen chair. "Your only job is to go to school and get good grades, and you can't even do that! Sarada Uchiha, your father works hard to give you everything! What would your father say?"
Sarada rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. "My father couldn't care less, wherever he is. May I be excused?"
"No you may not, young lady! Answer me! Why were you fighting?"
Sarada fidgeted with the handle of the pepper mill.
Sakura snatched the mill from Sarada's hands. "Well?"
She stared down at her hands for several seconds. "I…I…Namida said.."
Namedia? You were fighting with your friend?"
"She's not my friend! Now that Chocho's gone I don't have any friends. Anyway, Namida's a liar!" Sarada slouched and glared at Sakura, "She said… Daddy's a crazy crook.. who"—-the hard, defiant shell around Sarada cracked—- "who ran away and left us …and I could find him if I wanted to … on a wanted poster in the post office!" Sarada sucked on her bottom lip, and sad, hurt tears spilled down her cheeks.
"You know that's not true?" And then Sakura stopped. She didn't know if it was true or not. And all Sarada had to go on was the fracture fable her mother had concocted because Sakura refused to consider a less than happy ending.
"Oh , sweetie! I'm so sorry! Sakura scooped her daughter into her arms. Sarada sobbed, and Sakura's own tears dropped silently on Sarada's hair.
"Mommy…I didn't mean to.."
"It's okay. This is my fault." 'I was protecting me.' "Let's get in my bed and talk."
Sarada curled her long slender legs under her and settled into the pillows piled against the headboard.
Sakura opened the curtains for the first time in weeks, then sat near the footboard, facing her daughter. Fading afternoon sun streamed across the bed. Sakura looked into Sarada's puffy eyes and found all the fear and sadness she had spent ten years guarding her against. 'I have to tell her the truth.' "First, don't you ever forget you're the most important thing in the world to me, and I won't ever leave you. Ever…Your father has a…a sickness…"
"Aren't they making him well in the hospital?"
"No, baby this is something else. It makes him do things we might not understand."
"Is that why he acts so weird sometimes?"
"Probably. I'm not exactly sure myself." Sakura explained what happened as best she could, including the fact they would probably have to move.
"Daddy ran away and left us? With nothing?" Sarada looked distraught. "Then he doesn't love us, so I don't love him anymore either."
"Sarada, don't talk like! Your father loves you." 'And I love him 'til it makes me sick of myself.' Sakura didn't want to admit it, but Sasuke still made her dizzy, and whatever he had done, she wanted to know he was safe. They would work it out.
"What are we gonna do now?" Sarada asked.
Sakura surprised herself. "First, I'm going to get a job."
"But you never worked before."
"I was assistant manager of a store before you were born, young lady."
"A store?" Sarada scrunched up her face. "You mean like at a the mall?"
"Yes."
"Will we really be okay, Mommy?" Sarada looked up at Sakura.
"Of course. It won't be easy, but we'll be fine."
Sarada snuggled down in the pillows and was asleep in minutes. Sakura listened to Sarada's deep even breaths and prayed for strength. Sasuke had been their champion. He had kept them worry free and kept him happy. Now he was gone, all she could see were worries, and Sarada was her responsibility. Alone. She ran her thumb over Sarada's eyebrows, then covered her with an afghan.
Downstairs Sakura found her mother living room reading. "I heard you two, but I thought I'd best leave you to yourselves."
"I told her, Momma. The truth. It was hard." Sakura perched on the ottoman at Mebuki's feet and put her head in her mother's lap. "Sarada took it better than I thought."
Mebuki shut her magazine and took off her reading glasses. "It wasn't so bad 'cause Sarada already knew, deep inside. Just like I know Sasuke took my money."
Sakura's head jerked up. "Momma…I… He'll.."
"You don't have to say it, Sakura. I know. Have for a while now."
"Oh, Momma, I'm so sorry."
"Don't be sorry for what you didn't do. I knew you couldn't talk about it, and you are more important to me than money. We'll get by."
Sakura spoke, her voice muffled by the soft bottom fabric of her mother's house dress.
"Momma…when Daddy told me how you got me… that my own mother threw me away… I felt like I must have done something to deserve it. I don't want Sarada believing that what ever is going on with Sasuke is somehow her fault…"
"Look at me." Mebuki lifted Sakura's chin. "Then you have to make sure she won't. Tell her what she can understand. I expect we're in for some rough times. Sarada had no idea what sacrifice is. Neither do you for that matter. I'm out of practice, but I haven't completely forgotten. You're gonna need all the help you can get, so don't leave her out."
"He's not coming back, is he Momma?"
For Mebuki, Sakura was seven years old again, asking if there was really a Santa Claus. No matter how she put it, this truth would hurt. She kissed the center of Sakura's forehead. "I don't know, baby. Probably not. Looks like his habits got the best of him."
"You knew? About his gambling…you knew that too?"
"Not at first. Kizashi suspected something…wasn't sure what. He's worry himself sick when you went out with Sasuke. I argued with him, said Sasuke was a fine man, mature, responsible. Much better for you than Naruto. He wasn't never more than a step ahead or behind his brother's ghost. I didn't want you mixed up in that craziness."
"I don't know what I'll do if Sasuke somehow spread that story about Naruto."
"Ain't nothing you can do. But learn from your mistakes and do better next time."
Mebuki tucked a stray hair behind Sakura's ear. "I was already living with you by the time I figured out Sasuke had habits, but he took care of you real good, like you always wanted, and Sarada was growing up so nice, wasn't nothing to say."
"I wish I'd known Momma."
"You did, Sakura. You didn't want to, but you did. So you squinted until the things you didn't want to see were kinda fuzzy and out of focus. It aint nothing new with men and women. We all do it. Anyway, much as I hate to admit it, you're a grown woman. What was going on between you and your husband was your business."
"Momma…" Sakura rested her head on her mother's knee again. "This is gonna sound stupid, but do you think I'm being punished for what happened to Yahiko? Naruto, too. Maybe Hinata, for all I know. If we'd all gone home like we were supposed to…you know it was my fault. I didn't have to use the bathroom. I didn't…"
"It was an accident, Sakura. If anybody was blame, it was Yahiko. He was old enough to know better, so don't let this mess make you start looking for extra stuff to blame yourself for. That's a waste of time and energy, and you can't spare neither one."
Right after rush hour the next morning Sakura drove to the cemetery. She had missed her regular visit with her father while Sasuke was in the hospital, and now more than ever she needed to talk with him and figure out how she was going to make it through.
On the long ride from him Sakura remembered her father's words, his laugh, his hands and how she used to think he could beat anybody in the world. As she exited the highway, she wondered what he's look like now, if…
"Havent seen you in a while." The florist, added ferns to the flowers Sakura picked out.
"My time hasn't been my own." 'That's an understatement.'
Sakura bumped over that railroad tracks. She followed the road into the cemetery, Serenity Circle, and parked near the evergreen trees that camouflaged the cemetery fence. She got out and surveyed the oddly tranquil panorama of monuments and the skeletons of Japanese maples and elms that would fill in the landscape with reds and greens come spring. Her daddy used to joke, "They can bury me at the back of the cemetery, but I'ma have the best view."
She stopped at the bronze plaque that read "Haruno" in simple honest letters.
"Hey Daddy." Sakura kissed her fingers and traced them across the smaller letter that spelled out
"Kizashi Haruno" "I guess you thought I wasn't coming, but you know I always do." She lifted the vase hidden in the plaque, always averting her eyes from the empty space that was meant for her mother's name, then walked to the spigot for water.
"There's no point in beating around the bush, you were right about Sasuke." She started arranging the stems one at a time. "I still don't want to believe he took off like that. Yeah, I know, everybody's not you. You rescued me last time I was abandoned, but some people got cold hearts and ice in their veins…I just want to know for sure, so I can stop loving him."
Sakura fit the vase into the holder. "I'll get us through this, Daddy. I promise." With each word she felt stronger, like she always did when she felt her dad with her. "I made this bed, and I'll figure out a way to sleep in it." She stood and dusted her knees. "I'm taking care of Momma for you, too…Daddy, I never thought Sasuke would take money from her." Her voice cranked, and she looked off in the distance until she could calm herself. Sakura didn't like to cry on these visits. "Momma's doing pretty good. Still forgetful, but she remembers things that happened a long time ago, and tells Sarada all about you. I wish you could see how much Sarada has grown." The forlorn hoot of a diesel train seemed to offer a reply. "I know you're with me all the time, dad, and I'm glad. I couldn't do this without you…"
Thanksgiving dinner was deliberate break with tradition. The day was rainy and cold, and Sarada thought they should stay in their PJs so they did. Sakura decreed that not one football game would be seen all day. Mebuki suggested lasagna, a meal they rarely ate because Sasuke despised it. They ate on snack trays in the den, muddling through anxious moments with tinny laughter, exaggerated politeness, and mock celebration.
Sakura knew this was the last Thanksgiving in her dream house. She wanted to hate Sasuke as much as she hated herself for letting this happen. 'Be careful what you ask for… Wherever they were this time next year, she was certain her life had changed forever.
Sakura applied for Christmas jobs, but the response to her eleven-year old retail experience was a yawn. Even the cash registers were different now. As a last resort she went to one of the anchor stores wheee she never shopped because she thought the merchandise was tacky. They hired her to work gift wrap, nights and weekends, minimum wage.
Sakura left home in designed dresses which disappeared under a red smock once she clocked in. She would switch from her Italian pumps to the flats stashed in her locker so she could stay on her feet for six hours. When gift wrap wasn't busy, she boxed packages for delivery. Scissors, ribbon, twine and industrial sized rolls of paper procked, nicked, sliced and gouged her hands. It hurt her to cut her fingernails short, but they broke and got in the way, and soon she stopped even using polish because it was always chipped.
Mebuki did laundry and kept the house clean. She offered to take on a couple of days work a week
'till things pick up," but Sakura wouldn't have it.
Sakura did her best to tread water, writing checks for the lights, heat, and phone. One afternoon, desperate for more money, she went through her wardrobe and carted suitcases full of her most expensive clothes to a consignment shop. And she prayed. For Sarada and her mother to stay well. For strength. For Sasuke to be dead. To find a better job. For a dress to be sold so she could buy Christmas presents. For Sasuke to come back, make it okay again. To win the lottery. For her car to last the winter.
She kept Sarada's life on an as normal for her as possible. She still went to dance class and Sakura and Mebuki steeled with pride as they watched Sarada dance the snowflake queen at the annual Christmas recital. Afterward over celebratory sundaes, sakura tried to explain to her daughter how different holiday gift giving would be this year. "It's because of daddy, isn't it? I hope he never comes back!"
Sakura's efforts to stay afloat were like spit in the ocean. Her bank account sank steadliy, with no signs of stopping until it hit bottom, but the week before Christmas she worked sixty-two hours, twenty two at time and half. She had already been told she wouldn't be kept on after the holidays, but she justified going over budget on her Christmas shopping by using her store discount to buy a cozy robe for her mother, and Sarada's first pair of leather knee boots. The blue turtleneck, covered with big snowflakes, was an after thought, but sakura felt it was too perfect to leave.
Sakura was on her way to work when the mail carrier rang her bell on Christmas Eve. She got the usual gut knot and opened the door expecting to sign for another fat envelope with some attorney as the return address. Instead it was a package, wrapped in creased brown paper. She recognized Sasuke's bold script immediately and had barely closed the door before she ripped the paper. 'I wish Sarada and Momma were home! I knew he wouldn't let Christmas come without a work!'
Rubber bands held the cigar box shut. 'He doesn't even smoke.' Sakura's hands trembled so much she out the box on the foyer table to open it. Wads of newspaper padded the top. She smooth a piece. It was dated for December 20. Underneath lay two smudged envelopes. She tore open the lumpy one and Sasuke's Diamond horseshoe fell into her palm. "Oh my God!" She closed her hand around it. 'He never goes anywhere without this.' Sakura leaned against the door for support, but her legs wouldn't hold her. And she slid to a seat on the floor. She could tell there was a letter in the other envelope.
'Oh please…let it say…What? What do I want it to say?'
Sakura felt the fingers at her throat again. She closed her eyes for a second, then ripped it open. The pressure of Sasuke's words indented the lined, tablet paper.
Dearest Pinky,
You'll never know how sorry I am. About everything. But I am. And I can't fix it. I knew that when the money hit my hand after I sold you engagement ring. I walked out of the store, knowing I couldn't get no lower. Didn't want to. Breaking in my own house, stealing from my family. Dogs don't do that. I know my ring won't make up for what I took, but it's all I got left, and it won't be no good to me. You were my last luck. I knew it when I first saw you that day, by the side of the road. I looked into your big sparkly eyes. I don't deserve that no more, but they'll be the last things I remember, you can bet on that. The hole got too deep, Sakura, and I can't blame nobody. I dug it myself. I wanted you to know I didn't mean to hurt you, for it to get this bad. I don't know what to say to Sarada. If she hates me, let her I earned it. Same goes for your momma. I left my car on a pier in Massachusetts. It's where I stopped driving. By the time you get this the should have found it, if it aint been stolen. Maybe you can sell it for a few dollars. The current here is powerful and that should save you the expense and embarrassment of having to bury me. I am sorry.
Sasuke
Sakura crumpled the note and flung it across the room. That sasuke had run away, that he had been killed by the same people he owed money, these were thoughts Sakura had a million times. That he would kill himself never entered her mind. 'How are you! Screw up all our loves, not even have the decency to face me! You planned this to arrive right before Christmas. I know you did. So we can thing about you every year. I won't have it!'
She sped to the police headquarters looking for the detective she been in contact with. Before Sakura found her Namida's father, the chief of police recognized her and led her into his office. Sakura showed him the ring and the letter.
"I'll contact the Police in MA."
"Whatever you do, I don't want to know about it until December 26."
"Mrs Uchiha, we might need you to ID…"
"If Sasuke is dead, he'll still be dead the day after Christmas. I won't allow this to become Sarada's holiday nightmare."
"And if he's not dead?"
"Oh, after this he is to me, whatever happens…And, I'd appreciate it if you don't talk about this at home. Kids can be cruel and you Namida's got a big mouth. She prodded Sarada into one fight already."
That night Sakura continued with Christmas Eve as normally as she could. After everyone was asleep, she placed her beautifully wrapped packages under the three foot artificial tree she had used last year to decorate her booth at the Christmas Bazaar. She looked at her gifts, things that were once run of the mill purchases taken for granted necessities in another life, and angry tears welled up, but she blinked them back, turned out the lights and went to bed.
In the morning after they opened presents, sakura made breakfast and Sarada helped her grandmother make her special doughnuts.
"Kami knows I can't remember the last time I made such a pig of myself." Mebuki rubbed her stomach and leaned back in her chair. "We should see if we can get your momma to eat a bit a more. She's looking mighty peaked these days."
"Trying to keep my girlish figure Momma." Sakura got through the day with a pasted on smile to mask her shifting emotions. By noon the next day Detective stuckey called. MS state police had impounded Saskue's car. There was no sign of a struggle. And they hadn't recovered a body yet, but for Sakura it was enough. SHe knew there was no point in pretending Sasuke was coming home. He had bailed out.
She had to accept it.
Mebuki dabbed at her eyes when Sakura told her. "Poor troubled soul. I hope he found him some peace."
Sarada cried so hard her whole body quivered, and she spoke in anguished bursts. "I didn't mean I hated him. Maybe he'll come home."
"No, honey. Your father had a lot of problems but he loved you very much." Sakura wasn't sure that was true, but only Sarada mattered to her now. When she got Sarada to calm down, sakura rummaged through her jewelry box and found the gold star, Sasuke's first gift to her. She hung it around her daughter's neck. "Your father gave this to me a long time ago, but you were his star, too. You have to keep shinning for him."
In three days Sasuke's body still hadn't washed ashore. Stuckey informed her there wasn't much else police could do. The case would remain open, but not active. "I'll call if anything develops. If you relocate, keep in touch. Sometimes, a year, two years down the road…the ocean is funny like that. I'm real sorry about the way this turned out. If there's ever anything I can do call me."
The minister at their church offered to hold a memorial service at the church for Sasuke, but Sakura didn't want to do it.
"Momma why? There's no point. Nobody will come anyway."
"You have to let him go. Say good-bye. Close the door and get on with your life."
Reluctantly, Sakura agreed, then she phones the bank vice president who signed most of the threatening letters Sasuke recieved about the house. On New Year's eve morning she met with the man, who was much younger than she expected. He had coffee brought in, tisk-tisked sympathetically and spoke to Sakura gently, which eased her obvious nervousness, but bottom line she had until the end of February to vacate or risk further legal action. He made the devastating news sound painless, like filling a tooth that had been aching a long time and when she shook his hand she was still numb, but relieved. She'd start the year with a big, new broom since she had lots of sweeping to do.
And that evening, right before watch night service the rector officiated a private memorial for Sasuke in a chapel. Sakura , Sarada and mebuki sat in the front row, with Mrs banks right behind them. Jugo and two men Sakura didn't know came in as the service started and sat in the second to last pew, and detective stuckey stood in the back, under an arch, next to a short man who held his hat solemnly over his heart. Sarada cried like her heart would break. Sakura arm around her daughter's trembling shoulders mopped her tears. Sakura didn't cry. In twenty, brief minutes it was over.
Mrs banks left, shaking her head in resigned disbelieft. Detective stuckey pulled Sakura aside and said
"Jugo is outside. Do you want me to walk you to your car?"
"No. He won't bother us."
With everyone else gone, sakura , saran and mebuki left by the side entrance to avoid the holiday church goers. Jugo waited by his burgundy Rolls.
"Its tragic, The man had so much going for him, and to have it end like this…seems like some people try to outrun their troubles, but sooner or later it wears them down and catches them in the end."
Sakura remembered the first time she Saw Jugo decked in a white dinner jacket, tending to the door of his restaurant. She was so impressed. Now she wasn't sure if he was a friend or enemy, so she nodded mutely.
"You need anything, anything at all you come to Jugo, you hear? I'll always be looking out for you." Jugo kissed her cheek, and his wiry handlebar grazed her face.
It gave Sakura chills.
On day two of the new year she picked a lawyer from the phone book and for a twenty-five dollar consultation fee found out that for much less money than she expected she could be divorced in a year, or for no money at all she could wait several and have sasuke declared dead. Shr plunked down 200 to get the ball rolling on the divorce.
Driving home, she looked at her hand on the steering wheel. 'I sure don't need this ring anymore.' It was such a thrill the day Sasuke brought the diamond and sapphire band, the day they were married. Now, she saw it as groceries and the gas bill. At home she gathered her diamond tennis bracelet and a few other pieces, She was going to leave Sasukes horseshoe 'What for?' She added it to the pile.
For all the fanfare that accompanied the arrival of each velvet box, the sale was cut and dried and she received much less money that she expected. 'I wonder what he got for my engagement ring?'
Next Sakura resumed the job search, but by February she was still unemployed. On Lincolns birthday she interviewed as a receptionist for two young lawyers who were setting up a practice. She was braced for the usual brush off, but they asked her to wait outside, then brought her back and offered her job. It paid 25K a year to greet clients, make coffee and answer the phones. She would have six paid holidays a weeks vacation after one year. Health insurance kicked in after she'd been with them six months. They said they like Sakura because she was more mature than the other applicants. She thought they were kidding. Most of the time even now, Sakura felt like she play acting at being a grownup, but she agreed to start the next day and immediately switched to the real estate ads to hunt for an apartment. At the end of her second week on the job she found a tiny two bedroom above a store.
"This is my room?" Sarada said when Sakura showed her the alcove off the dinning room that would be her bedroom. "I hate it!"Sarada stomped down the stairs.
Sakura followed "We'll fix it up nice, Sarada. Things won't be so bad. You'll see."
"Can we go home now?" Sarada leaned against the car.
"Yes, but next week, this will be home."
The movers showed up four hours late with the van already loaded with someone else's stuff. Most of the furniture had gone in a tag sale and it didn't take them long to jam what what was left into the truck. Mebuki chattered to fill in the awkward silent moments, Sarada cried and Sakura wanted to but as she drove down the hill, away from her dream house for the last time, she didn't look back. What was the point? The dream had died.
They settled into their new neighborhood and the new routine. Sakura arranged for Sarada tp finish the year at her old school even though it meant a forty minute drive in the morning before work and an after school program until sakura picked her up at six. Now Sakura clipped coupons , planned car trips to save gas, and patrolled the apartment turning off lights but on Saturday mornings Sarada still had dance class and after Sakura dropped her off she went to the Laundromat. And at night she still dreamed of Sasuke.
Sakura was tired all the time, but somehow each week they made it through and she felt proud of herself. Then she would look at Sarada, moody and withdrawn, head bent over her geography book or catch her mother's lips moving silently as she prayed to kami to help see them through, and Sakura would curse Sasuke. Not that she didn't spend an equal number of night on a pillow soaked with the leftover tears of her solitary pity party. She didn't understand how she could miss Sasuke and hate him the same time, but both emotions lived side by side, so close she could barely tell them apart.
In April the muffler on Sakura's car dropped off. In early May Sarada caught a cold that wouldn't go away. Hacking cough, strep throat, ear infection. Doctor bills tests prescriptions and lost pay took a chunk out of what was left of the emergency fund. Again, Mebuki volunteered to take on a few days work but Sakura had watched her mother get slower, more absent-minded and saw that her going back to work was out of the question. Instead, Sakura looked for a second job.
Part-time evening would interfere with getting Sarada from school. Nights would leave her no time to sleep before going to her full time job. That left weekends. One of her coworkers from the wrap desk called to tell her they were hiring chambermaids at the new conference center hotel. "Flexible hours…good tips.."
'Maid? Do I look like I'd be interested in a job like that? Does she think I'm…What, sakura? Somebody who needs work?
Sakura turned into the beautifully landscaped drive and remembered how excited Sasuke was when his bid was accepted. This job would turn the tide. She knew that every time she drove past the carefully placed shrubs and flower beds, missing Sasuke would get harder and despising him would come a little easier.
AN: Next chapter is back to Hinata. I hope this answered some questions about how Sakura became a maid. Thank you for reading.
