Chapter 2 #2
"Yes and no," said Clayton, a little breathless now that the worst of it was known.
"He was admiring it with me, and then turned to help another customer when the knife and sheath were stolen.
I called the police, and they took the report, but Luke, there might only be four main roads out of this town, but there are a dozen side roads that head across huge tracts of land.
There's nobody catching this guy, nobody. "
For a small moment, Luke was quiet. Clayton listened to the silence, his heart thudding in his chest, though in the background he could hear the TV going.
He thought about Luke and Sarah and Shawn in the family room watching a sitcom together, the way he and his mom and his dad and Sarah used to do, back when the world was much younger.
Those days were gone now, and the vision of faded, homey curtains over the window above the sink flashed in front of Clayton's eyes and then vanished.
"Hang on," said Luke. "Sarah wants to talk to you; I'm giving her the phone."
Clayton's heart leaped up in his throat. He'd not talked to Sarah for at least two years, ever since that awful day. The idea of talking to her now about this dreadful thing, which would surely get in the way of the hoped-for reconciliation between them, made his face go numb, made his chest ache.
There was a quiet rustle on the other end of the line, and then Clayton heard Sarah's voice for the first time in what seemed forever.
"Clayton, it's Sarah," said Sarah, introducing herself as if the two of them were strangers, which they were, a little. "I'm so sorry—was it truly stolen? Did you look beneath the barstool? Remember the time—?"
Then she stopped, even as the memory flickered in front of Clayton, almost as if it was happening just then.
Sarah and him, New Year's Eve that year when Mom and Dad had gone on a tropical cruise, and it'd had been before she'd met her first husband, so with both of them having nobody, they'd spent the evening together.
They'd had a few drinks and talked, and Sarah had misplaced her purse.
Luckily, they quickly found it beneath the barstool, both of them laughing so hard that Sarah confessed she'd peed a little. Which made them both laugh harder.
The memory was a good one, bright and shining amidst all the other good memories, and the bad ones, too.
"No," said Clayton, swallowing over the lump in his throat. "I looked. The police can't find the guy, I'm sure of it. And now, I won't have anything for Shawn for Christmas."
"We're giving him an Xbox," said Sarah quickly. "We'll change out the tag and it'll be from you. That's how we'll do it."
"But I don't want to give him an Xbox," said Clayton, and his voice shook, hard as he tried to stop it. "Every kid is getting one of those. I wanted to give him something special, something nobody else had—Uncle Bill gave it to me, and now it's gone. Somebody else has it—"
"It doesn't matter," said Sarah, in that fierce way she had when she'd made up her mind. "None of that matters now. None of it. Only, I'm so sorry for what happened, for what I let happen and didn't stop."
"None of that matters now," said Clayton quickly, taking her apology then and there, putting forgiveness in his voice as he echoed her words. "None of it."
"So come home," said Sarah. "Come home for Christmas. We'll figure it out when you get here. How long will it take you to drive from Dickinson to Parker?"
"Ten hours," said Clayton. "But that depends on the roads. There's a blizzard brewing, from the looks of things. I'll check the weather report, but I'm pretty sure—"
"Then get some rest and head out early tomorrow," said Sarah, and Clayton could almost see her nodding, her silvery blonde hair falling over her shoulders.
He could even hear the slight rustle when she tucked her hair behind her ears, in that way she did when she was thinking, and his love for her flooded through him.
"And I mean early. Then you'll be here by tomorrow night, in plenty of time for Christmas. Do you have the address?"
"Yes," said Clayton, and he didn't have to tell her he'd had it from the second he'd gotten the invitation.
He'd not gone to the wedding where she married Luke, still too hurt over her support of the man, now her ex, who had separated them from each other. But none of that needed saying; they both knew what had happened. And now there was a chance for a new beginning.
They'd talk about what had happened between them at some point, when things had settled down, and the wounds that had begun to close would really start to heal. He couldn't wait to see her and Shawn again, couldn't wait to meet Luke, who had already received Uncle Bill's stamp of approval.
"Tell Luke thank you," said Clayton. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand, scrubbing hard. "And tell Shawn I'm on my way."
"I will," said Sarah, the depth of her love oozing up through the slender cell phone. "Drive safe, okay? I can't wait to see you."
"Me too," said Clayton.
His eyes were wet and his mouth was dry, but the cold pockets of emptiness in his heart were starting to fill.
It was going to be the first Christmas he was looking forward to since his parents died several years back, the first he and Sarah would spend together without being overloaded with sadness.
They weren't going to be sad, they weren't. They were going to be happy, and since Luke was a decent guy, a good guy, he could see her, could see Shawn, any time he wanted.
And that was the best Christmas gift of all.