Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
On Wednesday after work, Sarah walked up the street from her office toward a small boutique she often passed during her lunch hour. The dress in the window had caught her eye the day before: steel blue, in a soft, silky fabric, its hem traced with delicate silver leaves.
The shop door chimed softly as she stepped inside, and the faint scents of lavender and pressed cotton welcomed her.
“Can I help you?” a clerk asked a few moments later.
Sarah pointed to the dress in the window. “I’d like to try that one.” The clerk nodded and walked to the other side of the room to get her size.
A few minutes later, she slipped the dress over her head in the changing room, smoothing the fabric along her sides before gathering the curtain aside to study herself in the mirror.
The color brightened her complexion, and the gentle drape of the fabric was unfamiliar, lighter than her practical clothes.
It was perfect.
Sarah paused only briefly to look at the price tag. She could afford it. It had been a long time since she’d bought something just for herself.
Her next stop was the shoe store a few doors down, where choosing proved more difficult. She wanted sandals that would be comfortable enough to stand in for hours, with only a small heel. Something practical but still pretty.
After trying on five different pairs, she finally settled on a simple silver pair she could wear with other outfits long after this one evening had passed.
By the time she finished paying, she realized she was going to be late to pick up Riley from Simon’s place. She began to panic. She hated being late, and she really didn’t want to have to tell him the reason she was late. He might read too much into it.
She texted him when she got to her car. So sorry to be late. On my way.
He didn’t reply, so she pulled into traffic and headed toward his house, grateful that he was so laid back. She appreciated that trait but didn’t want him to think she took him for granted. She knew how it felt to be taken for granted.
When she arrived at the house, she found Simon and the kids in his front yard, playing a game of bocce.
“Did you find a dress?” he asked when she arrived.
She stopped a moment, startled, heat rising to her face. “Yes, thanks,” she said. “How did you…?”
Simon’s mouth twitched and his gaze slid past her shoulder to Riley, who was suddenly very interested in lining up bocce balls.
“Riley,” Sarah said, using her calm lawyer voice. “Did you tell Simon I was shopping?”
“Maybe,” Riley said, not even attempting innocence.
Simon lifted both hands. “For the record, I didn’t interrogate her. She volunteered the information.”
Sarah exhaled slowly. “Of course she did.”
“We’re just about done here,” he said, stooping to pick up a ball. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to win,” he added confidently.
The following day at work, Sarah found herself stopping to chat with some of the staff gathered at one of the desks, talking about the dance the next day.
“What are you wearing?” she asked one of the women, who looked back at her, blinking hard.
“Umm, I got a red dress,” she said.
“I hope you enjoy the evening,” said Sarah to the trio. “Maybe I’ll see you there.” She walked toward her office, smiling to herself.
Who knew being unpredictable could be so much fun?
That evening, right after work, Sarah picked up the two girls as arranged.
Riley seemed happy, but Sally’s eyes were shining with excitement. Whatever reservations she’d had about taking her along vanished.
They entered the nail salon and were guided toward the colors on the wall, where they took a few minutes choosing what they wanted.
“Can I have blue?” asked Riley.
“I don’t see why not,” said Sarah watching them discussing the options.
“I’d like yellow,” said Sally. “Do you think that would be okay?”
“I think you should pick the color you want. You wear a lot of yellow, so it should go with your clothes.”
“And it’s only going to stay on for a few days anyway, right, Mom?”
“Yes, we’re getting the type of polish that is easy to remove ourselves, so it likely won’t last more than a few days. It’s a bit of fun.”
Once they finished choosing their colors, they sat in the chairs, one girl on each side of Sarah, and put their feet into the basin to soak. Three women came forward to work on their feet first, massaging them, cutting nails, and showing the girls how to operate the massage features of the chair.
“Ooh, I like this,” said Sally, when the chair began to vibrate. “It feels nice.”
“How high can we make it go?” asked Riley pressing the buttons.
“Just because you can make it go higher doesn’t mean you should,” said Sarah, laughing when Riley frowned and hurried to turn down the intensity of the massage.
“I like it at level two,” said Sally, who was now sitting back, her eyes closed, relaxing into the experience. Sarah took her cue from Sally and closed her eyes, peeking to see how Riley would react. Riley sighed deeply, set the massage at two, and closed her eyes as well.
They sat that way until their pedicures were done and then presented their hands for polishing. For Sarah it was French tips. She had always wanted to try them.
An hour after they arrived, Sarah paid the bill, drove to pick up their dinner order, and headed to Simon’s place.
“Daddy, look!” said Sally when they entered the townhouse. She held out her hands for him to inspect.
“Mellow yellow, huh?” he said. “Your favorite color.” He smiled up at Sarah. “Thanks for taking her. She’s been looking forward to this for days.”
Her gaze swept over to Sally, who was now showing Dot her manicure, and then back to Simon.
“It was fun. I’m not sure Riley enjoyed it quite as much. Sitting still for that long is difficult for her.”
“I can see that,” said Simon, looking at Riley, who was now bouncing up and down as she talked to Sally. “Have you ever considered gymnastics?”
“She’s more interested in joining the volleyball team,” said Sarah. “And soccer. She loves soccer—it’s her father’s favorite sport.”
“Ah.” He turned back to look at her. “Thanks for bringing dinner.” He took the bags from her.
“Girls, wash your hands for dinner before it gets cold,” said Sarah.
“Okay,” Riley said, louder than necessary. The girl was a bundle of energy, as though the massage chair had somehow recharged her. That was all Sarah needed today. A recharged Riley.
The girls rushed to wash up and were soon sliding into what had become their usual spots at the table.
A sameness that Sarah was quickly becoming comfortable with.