When Love Is Lost and Found

1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Sharon

Standing in line waiting for my name to be called, I look down at my engagement ring and twist it around my finger, reflecting on the day Jimmy proposed.

He was leaving for boot camp in a week and wanted to take me out for my birthday since he would be gone when my actual birthday rolled around.

The staff sang “Happy Birthday” and brought out a huge piece of double-chocolate cake with a candle on it. I blew out the candle, and we devoured the cake. Being the gentleman that he was, he always let me have the last bite of whatever dessert we were sharing. When I cut into it, there it was—a ring. He picked up the ring and put it in his mouth, removing all the frosting. I thought that was the sexiest, most romantic thing I'd ever seen him do. It left me breathless.

"I love you, Babe," he said. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever known, inside and out. I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?"

I snap back to the present when I hear my name announced over the loudspeaker. My best friend, Betty, gently shoves me towards the podium, where Mr. Smith, my high school principal, waits to hand me my diploma. The loud applause from the audience is a cruel reminder that Jimmy isn't here, and neither is my mother.

As soon as the ceremony ends, I search the crowd for my friends and teachers so I can say goodbye.

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the party?" Betty asks, throwing her arm around me as we approach her car. "It'll be fun."

"I'm sure it will," I say, smiling. "Thanks for offering, but I have to finish packing. I leave in the morning, remember?"

"I'm going to miss you," she says. "I can't believe you're moving across the country with a bunch of strangers."

"I've been working for them for seven months," I say. "They're hardly strangers."

"You're too young to be on your own," Betty continues.

"I feel like I've been on my own since Daddy died."

"You promise to keep in touch?" she asks, climbing into the car.

"I promise."

When she parks in front of my house, I reach across the seat and hug her tightly, promising myself I won't cry.

"If you change your mind about the party, call me."

"Thanks. I will."

I wave at her as she drives away. I turn and look at my house one last time and then take a deep breath, knowing what's waiting for me inside.

Mom is sitting on the couch with a look I know far too well. Her arms are tightly crossed over her chest, and her pretty face is set in a scowl that I no longer fear.

"What's this?" she asks, waving at papers scattered on the coffee table.

I pick up the first page on top of the stack, immediately recognizing it.

"You went through my things?" I ask incredulously.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" she asks.

"Honestly, Mom," I say. "You know what? Never mind, it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," she says. "Now you think you can do whatever the hell you want."

I pick up the rest of the papers and attempt to put them back in the envelope, but my hands are shaking.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," I say. "I'm not doing what I want. I'm doing what I feel I have to do in order to make you happy. You'll never have to see me again."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"We both know how much you resent me. I figure my leaving will solve all your problems."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she says, looking down at her manicured nails before pointing a finger and adding, "What I do resent is you lying to me!"

"I never lied," I say calmly. "And we both know exactly what I'm talking about. You have resented me since the day I was born. I'm the one who kept you from going to college. I'm the one who kept you from being able to have more children. I'm the one who killed Daddy."

"That was an accident," she says without the slightest bit of conviction.

"I was driving," I say. "Trust me, you're not the only one who blames me. I blame myself."

When Mom's new husband, Rick, walks in the door, I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing Mom will cease fire so long as he's in the room.

"Hi, Sharon," he says, walking past me to kiss Mom.

"Hi, Rick."

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your graduation," he says. "I tried to get away but got swamped at the last minute. How was it?"

"It was fine," I say, smiling. "You didn't miss much."

"I still would've wanted to be there for you," he says.

"I know," I say. "Thank you."

Rick looks at Mom for additional input about the graduation, but Mom is too busy picking at a cuticle to notice.

"Can you still drop me off at the airport in the morning?" I ask Rick. "I have to be there by seven."

"Of course," he says. "I'll drop you off on my way to work."

"Thank you. I have to finish packing, so I'll say good night now."

"Have a good night," says Rick.

When I walk past Mom, she doesn't look up.

Once in my room, I let my emotions get the best of me. Feeling angry and overwhelmed, I start crying. I sit on my bed, clutching the papers tightly, realizing they're my lifeline but feeling like they’re a curse. I carefully sort them one by one until the copy of Jimmy's life insurance policy is on top. The check stapled to it is made out to me, Sharon Marie Hansen. The amount written in bold is like an offensive four-letter word: Three Hundred Thousand Dollars . I fold all the papers, put them back in the envelope, and slip them into my purse before pulling out the neatly folded letter in my billfold. I start reading it for what must be the hundredth time. I can recite it by heart, but I still like to read every word out loud, trying to picture Jimmy's handsome face saying every single word on it.

Dear Sharon,

I miss you so much.

I'm tired, sore, and hungry every day, but I'm loving every second of it.

I know this is hard for you. Trust me, it's hard for me, too, but this is where I belong.

I'm convinced now more than ever that I was born to be a Marine.

Thank you for understanding and for always supporting me.

I miss you, Baby. I miss your beautiful face. I will never get tired of looking at you. I miss running my fingers through your long hair. I miss touching your soft skin. But more than anything, I miss your eyes.

I never get tired of looking into those big green eyes. Especially after I've kissed you. No one could ever look at me the way you do.

I dream about you every night, and I hate waking up every morning knowing it was just a dream.

I've met some good men here who will be my lifelong friends even after we leave the military.

And speaking of… I'm thinking about making this a career.

Once we're married, we can live on base together. I already submitted my application because the waiting list is long.

Maybe they'll station me in Japan, and you can come with me. Wouldn't that be something?

Before I forget, in your last letter, you mentioned you're still looking for a job.

Remember my buddy, Jon? I've mentioned him before. He told me his parents are looking for a nanny for his little brother.

I've included their information so you can call them. Let them know you were recommended by their son, Jonathan.

I can't wait to see you.

Love you always,

Jimmy

I received his letter two days after his father knocked on my door and gave me the devastating news that changed my life forever.

"There's been an accident," Jimmy's dad said.

"Is he okay?" I asked, knowing perfectly well that the answer was no and feeling like the earth was crumbling underneath my feet.

He shook his head before adding, "The water vehicle he was riding in sank this morning."

I don't remember what he said after that. All I knew was that my childhood sweetheart was gone. I would never see him again.

***

Two months after Jimmy's funeral, I called about the nanny position. I was surprised to find out the position was still open. I met with David and Elizabeth Linder the next day. I could tell they were as desperate to hire someone as I was to find employment. They said they had interviewed a few people, but no one was willing to move to New York with the family. They hired me on the spot when I told them I wouldn't mind leaving California. I never had to mention their older son's referral.

Construction on their new house would be completed in May, and they wouldn't be moving until June. That gave me the time I needed to graduate high school.

I started watching their son after Thanksgiving. Noah is a sweet little boy with blond hair and big brown eyes. He's intelligent, inquisitive, and articulate. He also has the energy of a kitten on catnip, so I understand why his parents hired a nanny to help them keep up with him. I watched him every afternoon after school and on Saturdays. I saved every penny I earned, spending only on bus fare, hoping to have enough to rent a small apartment after graduation. I never could have imagined that Jimmy's death had already secured my future.

When an insurance agent called me in late December, I struggled to understand what he was saying.

"I don't mean to sound rude," I said, "but what are you talking about?"

"Are you Sharon Marie Hansen?"

"Yes, but Jimmy never mentioned any life insurance."

"Well, Miss Hansen, I have the paperwork on my desk. Mr. James Michael Bowman had a half-million-dollar policy with our firm, and you're one of the beneficiaries."

I let him talk, but once he was done, I hung up the phone and ignored his subsequent attempts to reach me, never intending to collect Jimmy's life insurance.

When Mrs. Bowman called me in February, I tried to make her understand why I wanted nothing to do with that money.

"Our son loved you," she said. "It's that simple. We understand and support his decision to include you."

"I don't want it," I finally said, frustrated and angry.

"Not taking the money will not bring him back, Sweetheart. We know you want to leave California. You have our support and our blessing. Take the money and go."

"Thank you," I said, closing my eyes and trying to keep the tears at bay.

***

When Rick drops me off at the airport, he hugs me and wishes me good luck.

"Please call us," he says. "Let us know you got there safely and give us your contact information."

"I will," I say, smiling. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," he says. "And, Sharon, your mom will come around."

I nod and give him a weak smile but don't say anything because, despite his words, I know that'll never happen.

I pick up my suitcase and walk into the airport, feeling like a new chapter in my life is welcoming me with open arms. I pray it'll be better.

I look around, searching for the Linder family. I spot Noah first. When he sees me, he lets go of his mother's hand and makes a beeline towards me, running at full speed.

"Hi, Noah!" I exclaim, picking him up and hugging him close.

"You're coming with us, Shay-Shay?" He asks, using the nickname he gave me when we first met. His little voice pulls at my heartstrings.

"Of course I'm coming with you," I say.

"Why?" he said, "You don't live with us."

"I know," I say. "But you know what? I would miss you if you left, so I'm going with you, and I'm going to live with you, too."

"Yeah!" he exclaims, his face lighting up with joy. "I love you, Shay-Shay!"

"I love you too," I say before putting him down. I take his hand, and we make our way to the long check-in line, where his parents are waiting and motioning for us to join them.

Mr. Linder is a tall, handsome man in his mid-fifties with a low-maintenance, salt-and-pepper crew cut and a short beard. I know he's a good person because he has gentle gray eyes that exude kindness. He wears a suit to work every day, and in the evenings, I could always find him in his office still wearing his crisp white dress shirt and tie. Noah's playroom was next to his office, and the walls were thin, so I knew he worked in real estate. I could hear him making offers, scheduling open houses, and discussing listings with his secretary, Sandy. From what I gather, he has invested in real estate here and in New York going back at least a couple of decades.

Mrs. Linder is younger—maybe in her early forties—and a college professor. She's beautiful in a sophisticated, regal sort of way. Her thick honey-blond hair is shoulder-length and always pulled back in a low bun. Her eyes are a dark cinnamon. When she's not wearing her staple silk blouse with slacks and matching pumps, she wears a long T-shirt over leggings and Reebok running shoes for her short runs and long workouts at the gym.

One day, as she was heading out, she walked by the playroom and poked her head in. "I'll be right back," she said. "Thanks to Noah, I'm still trying to lose this baby fat around my middle." She pinched her side, trying to grab fat that simply wasn't there. Noah looked up from his toys and stared at her, tilting his head to the side. I'm sure he was wondering what she was thanking him for, but he still gave her a polite "You're welcome, Mommy."

Mrs. Linder laughed out loud and said, "I love you, Noah," before waving goodbye and heading out the door.

***

On the plane, I'm seated next to Noah and a woman who reminds me of my late grandmother, Katherine. My grandma was my best friend. She loved me more than anyone else in the world. She passed away two years before Dad. I'm glad she was gone and didn't have to experience losing her son. The accident was not my fault, but neither my mother nor I can ever forgive me for it.

I can see the Linders from my aisle seat. They're a couple of rows in front of us, and the stewardess has just taken their drink order. They're relaxed and deep in conversation. Mr. Linder is laughing out loud at something Mrs. Linder said. They might not talk to me, but they sure do talk to each other and appear to be happy.

The Linders are private people. My brief conversations with them are mostly about Noah and his daily activities. His schedule is booked from eight in the morning to eight in the evening, Monday through Friday. On Saturday, Mr. Linder lets me borrow one of his cars, and I take Noah to his swimming lessons and then to the park. Sunday is my day off. The Linders go to church, and I go to the cemetery to visit Jimmy's grave.

Well, not after today. I'm on my way to Garrison, New York, and I'm never coming back.

***

"Is this handsome young man yours?" I hear the lady next to me ask.

I start laughing. "No," I say, "This is Noah. I'm his nanny."

"Hi," she says, "It's nice to meet you both. I'm Lorenza, but my friends and family call me Loren."

"It's nice to meet you," I say, shaking her hand. "My name is Sharon."

"Like the scripture in the Bible," she says.

"Pardon me?"

"Song of Solomon 2:1," she says. "I am the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valleys."

"That's beautiful," I say.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful young woman."

"Thank you," I say, feeling myself blush.

"Where are you headed?" she asks.

"Garrison, New York. What about you?"

"Well, isn't that a coinkydink? That's where I'm from."

"Really?!" I ask.

"I've been here visiting my son and his family. It's been six weeks, and I'm terribly homesick. I can't wait to get back."

"Do you have more family in Garrison?" I ask.

"No, it's just me, my cat, and a young man who's renting my guesthouse. My husband passed away six years ago, and our son is our only child, so it's just me now."

"I'm sorry to hear about your husband," I say, wanting to bare my soul to this woman and tell her all about Jimmy, but I hold back. "Do you get lonely living by yourself?"

"I do sometimes," she says, "but better alone than in bad company."

I laugh, thinking about my dad because that was one of his favorite sayings.

"I like you, Miss Loren."

"I like you too, Miss Sharon."