Nanny Sarah

This is an edited version of Nanny Sarah Pt. 02. Thanks again to my proofreader, Bi_Cathy.

This is the second part of a two part story. YOu'll need to read that first or you'll be lost. All characters involved in explicit scenes are over 18. Comments and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated.

*******

It was a grey Tuesday morning, one of those wet, low forties days we get here in December. I was just sitting at my desk, staring at one of my mom's glass snow globes. I'd brought a couple in to liven up my workspace. My phone buzzed, and then it did it again. Someone was actually calling me.

I half expected it to be a telemarketer, but when I turned it over I saw Sarah's face on the screen. My brow furrowed slightly. She didn't usually call me at work. I'd get texts from her throughout the day, whenever she took Heidi somewhere, or when they got home from school.

I pressed the green 'accept' icon. "Hello?"

"Mommy?"

That sat me up straight. "Heidi? Honey, why do you have Nanny Sarah's phone?"

"Mommy, something bad happened." Her voice was halting, like when she was trying to settle down from a tantrum. "Nanny Sarah's crying."

I could feel my heart pounding. "Where is she, honey?"

"On the couch, by the front door."

"Did she hurt herself?"

"No. Someone called her and she started crying."

I took a deep and steadying breath. Sarah wasn't hurt; Heidi wasn't hurt. But something was going on. "Okay, honey, take Nanny Sarah the phone."

"Okay." I heard the sound of little feet walking, and after a moment I could hear heavy breathing and sniffling, as well as voices in the background. "Nanny Sarah, it's mommy."

"Heidi? What? ... Oh, honey." The phone changed hands. "Hello?"

"Sarah?"

"Oh, Connie, I'm sorry, I...." She broke down again, and I could hear Heidi crying in the background.

"Sarah, what's wrong? You're scaring me. Are you okay?" Stupid thing to ask. It was quite obvious she was not okay.

"My brother called. My dad had a heart attack. He's gone."

I felt a hole open up in my stomach, and my heart dropped through. The terrible memories of the night my own father died came rushing forward. "I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Thank you."

"Of course. Let me talk to Heidi."

"Mommy?"

"Honey, everything's going to be okay. I'm coming home. Be very good until I get there."

"Yes, mommy. Mommy? Does Nanny Sarah need a hug?"

My heart swelled at my daughter's spirit. "Yeah, honey, I think that would be wonderful."

I disconnected the call, brought up my contacts and scanned for Joan's name.

"Hello?"

"Joan, it's Connie. Are you home?"

"Well, you called my landline, dear, so yes. What's wrong?"

"Sarah's father had a heart attack."

"Oh, sweet Jesus, is he...?"

"He passed away. She needs to go home. I can't be home until..." I looked at my schedule. I had a conference call at eleven that I had to be here for, but my afternoon was clear. "Probably a little after twelve."

"Okay, I'll head over. Be safe."

Luckily my boss and the rest of my team were very understanding, and I pulled into my garage at around twelve-thirty. Sarah's Kia was still there as I rushed inside. The scene was surreally calm. Joan and Heidi were in the kitchen baking cookies, the whole downstairs smelling of molasses and brown sugar. I gave Heidi a hug as I looked questioningly at Joan, who nodded towards the stairs.

"She's in her room, getting packed up. Go on, I think she'd want to see you."

As I crested the stairs I noticed her door was open, which was odd. I stood in the doorway, listening to the rummaging sound emanating from the little closet. A suitcase sat on the bed, clothes neatly packed inside, which amazed me. If I'd been packing under these circumstances they would have been strewn everywhere.

I knocked gently, which brought no response. "Sarah?"

She came out of the closet holding a conservative black dress. I could see the tear lines on her cheeks, but she'd pulled up an emotional wall, and her voice was steady and strong.

"Hi. I'll be ready in another ten minutes or so." She began to fold the dress.

"Wait just a second." I ran to my room and returned with a garment bag. "Hate to see it get wrinkled." I walked around the bed and laid it next to her suitcase.

"Thanks." Sarah picked it up and unzipped it, sliding the dress inside with the hanger poking through the top. She didn't even look at me while she did it.

"Sarah?"

"I'll try to be back as soon as I can." Her tone was formal and crisp, but I could hear the pain behind it.

"It's fine, take as much time as you need."

"Thank you."

"I'm so sorry, Sarah." I reached out to put my hand on her shoulder, but she pulled away.

"Connie, I really need to get this done."

I felt like she'd kicked me in the gut. I had to remind myself that this wasn't about me. "Okay, I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

Sarah jerked her head in acknowledgement and disappeared into her bathroom. I backed slowly through the door, gently pulling it shut behind me. I leaned against the wall, fighting back tears. All the way home I'd imagined holding her as she cried, letting her know she was loved and cherished. But she didn't want that. She didn't want to be loved by us, by me. And dear god that hurt.

My composure finally reasserted itself and I made my way back downstairs. Joan looked up at me, and I just shook my head.

"Is Nanny Sarah okay, mommy?" Heidi's eyes were shining with tears.

"She's very sad, honey. But she's trying to be brave."

Soon the thump-thump of a suitcase coming downstairs could be heard, and Sarah entered.

"I need to get going."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Heidi climbed down off her stepstool and ran to her, arms outstretched. Sarah went down to a knee and hugged her tight.

"I love you, Nanny Sarah."

"I love you, too, munchkin. I'll be back soon, I promise." I saw Sarah's barrier crack slightly, but she held it as she stood. "Bye, everyone." She was still avoiding my eyes. "I'll text when I get there, and when I know anything timing-wise."

"Safe trip." It was all I could manage. Sarah looked at me for a moment, and I could see her mask start to crack. She pulled her gaze away quickly, thanking Joan for everything, and she was out the door.

I wandered into the sitting room, watching as Sarah's little Kia backed down the driveway and onto the street. I stood in stunned silence, suddenly feeling so alone.

A motherly arm slid around my shoulders. "She'll be okay, Connie."

"Yeah." I drew a shaky breath. "She's the strongest, most together person I know."

"You care for her, don't you?"

"Of course I do. She's so good with Heidi. She's kind and sweet ... she's wonderful." My voice was a whisper as I finished.

"Oh, child, you're in love with her, aren't you?"

I couldn't hold back the sob that jerked from my chest. My head dropped, staring intently at the floor as I nodded yes. "Do you hate me?"

I felt myself pulled into a hug. "No sweetheart. You're like my own daughter. I've seen you grow up, I've watched you, and I am not a stupid woman."

"How does everyone know this but me?" I laughed, wiping a tear from my eye as we separated.

"Come on." Joan led me by the hand over to the sofa. "You know, your parents weren't stupid either, and it didn't escape their notice you were never terribly interested in boys. They'd discussed this possibility, and I can tell you for a fact they would have supported you no matter what."

"Really?"

"Of course. You have a little girl. Is there anything she could do...?"

"No, of course not."

"That's right. They loved you, and they were proud of you." Joan reached out and put her hand on my knee. "And they would have loved Sarah. But the real question is how does Sarah feel?"

"If I could answer that...."

"I know. There's only one way to find out, you know."

I nodded. She was right. Thinking over the last months, we'd gotten so close. She'd only been gone a few minutes, and already the house just felt empty without her. The little touches when we passed each other, cuddling on the couch under our afghan, the kiss we'd almost shared at Thanksgiving. I couldn't be misreading those, could I? No. I wasn't. That moment on the couch, that had been real, and it had been mutual.

But why had she been so cold just now? I thought back to when my mom died. I'd pushed everyone I cared about away. I remember feeling so numb, but with all that grief in the back, pounding away like a monster in a closet. I'd felt like if I'd let someone comfort me, the monster would break free and I might dissolve. But I'd needed them. The fact they were there, that they cared, it had meant everything, even when I'd hated them for it. In a moment I knew what I needed to do.

Between Joan, the daycare at work and my boss I worked out the rest of the week's childcare. Sarah eventually texted.

Sarah -- Got here OK. Services Sat., Meeting on Mon w/ lawyer for reading dad's will. Told them I wasn't sure if I could stay?

Me -- Of course you can stay.

Sarah -- Thanks. Home Mon. PM

Me -- OK. We miss you.

Sarah -- I miss you, too. Give Heidi my love.

I responded that I would before pulling up the Calvin College Website. Dr. Theodore Peters's death was the banner headline, along with a picture of Ted smiling behind his ginger beard. Reading down I saw they were having an eleven AM visitation with a memorial service at two PM. There was a gravesite service for family only to follow. I sent a text to Lauren to call me as soon as she could, and a little after nine-thirty my phone sounded.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself. Plugging my phone in for the night when I saw your text. What's up?"

"Sarah's dad died this morning."

Lauren gasped. Rick's voice sounded in the background and Lauren relayed the information.

"They live in Michigan, right? Are you going up?"

"That's actually why I was calling. Services are Saturday. I'd like to go, but I don't want to take Heidi. It's a long way and I don't know how she'd do with a funeral."

"Do you want us to take her this weekend?"

"Pleeeease?"

She pulled the phone away from her cheek. "Honey, can Heidi stay with us Saturday and Sunday? Connie wants to go up for the funeral."

"Of course."

"Sure, sweetie, just bring her over. And good luck."

The tension inside me ratcheted up as the last barrier I had for going fell away. We talked for a few more minutes, discussing the particulars. It was a four plus hour drive, so I'd have to drop Heidi off around seven AM. That segued into dinner and a sleepover invitation for Friday night. Lauren lived further north than I did, so that was perfect.

***

Friday night found us at Rick and Lauren's. Heidi was terribly excited about spending a whole weekend with Sylvia at Aunt Lauren's house, which, of course, was way cooler than our boring old homestead. She'd originally wanted to come see Nanny Sarah with me, but a promised Saturday trip to Christmas at the Zoo changed her mind. Kids are so fickle.

I sat contentedly on the sofa, trying to digest the incredible homemade lasagna I'd had too much of. I was also holding little Joseph while Rick had a tea party on the floor with the girls. Lauren was on my left, reveling in a moment of calm. She took a sip from her mug of hot buttered rum.

"Have you heard from Sarah yet?"

"I texted with her some last night. She seemed pretty wrung out. I get the feeling that her brother and sister are letting her handle everything."

"That's not fair."

"No, but they all have families, so short straw."

Lauren took another sip. It smelled amazing, I was going to have to get some when I put Joseph down, but I didn't want to do that yet. I might throw some real rum in mine.

"Did you tell her you're coming up?"

"No, I don't want her to worry over me, which she would."

***

I have to admit I questioned that decision often on the drive up. It turned out to be a dry, crisp wintery morning, with temperatures just above freezing as I left. A few hours later a few pockets of white began appearing as I approached Michigan, solidifying into a uniform blanket of snow as I came near the lake.

My sunglasses went on as the glare from the crystal white covering made me squint, but the roads were clear and I found myself in Grand Rapids before eleven.

Luckily my hotel offered early check-in, so I was able to change and apply my make-up before heading down to the chapel at the college. The woman in the mirror looked nervous. I ran my hands over my long, slightly shabby black overcoat. Underneath was one of my best presentation suits, black slacks and jacket with a ruffled blouse. It's what I wear when I want to look serious. I left my dark hair down, though, falling in my natural waves just to my shoulders. I'd thought about putting it up, but that seemed too severe for the occasion.

I found the campus easily. It was beautiful, bare trees under a blanket of recent snow. Christmas decorations were everywhere, and the place just seemed alive, despite the sixteen-degree weather. The roads and sidewalks were clear, as were the signs leading me to the chapel. It was a round building, set up on a hill, with a central spire reaching towards heaven. And it was packed.

I had to park a good distance away. As I got out of my warm SUV I pulled my worn out hood up against the cold December wind as I made my way to the entrance, along with at least a dozen others hurrying to beat the chill. As I entered, a silver haired man in an impeccable black suit handed me a bulletin.

Ted's face smiled out from the cover, cherub cheeks red above his ginger beard. It was a kind, intelligent face. I remembered it laughing at my jokes, or trying to cool down after a mouthful of horseradish covered shrimp.

Those entering were ushered up the left staircase where the receiving line stretched out the door of the sanctuary itself. I took my place in the queue, quelling my nervous energy by chatting with the older woman and her husband in front of me. A few minutes later we entered the sanctuary. People were everywhere, the soft murmur of voices in respectful conversation, punctuated oddly by the running feet or peeling laughter of a small child.

The casket was set in the center of the room, the top half of the lid completely removed so the deceased could be seen from all angles, since the chapel was built in the round. Flowers surrounded the stage and lined the outside walls. Somewhere among them were the ones that I had sent, but I had no idea which ones.

I could see Maggie clearly as she stood next to her husband's body. She was dressed head to toe in black, with a small hat and veil. Her arm was linked through one of a younger man at her side, whom I recognized from photos as Sarah's brother Matthew. He had his father's pleasing face, if not his red hair. A shorter, plump woman stood next to him, which marked the limit of my view from the top row of seats. That was Linda, Matthew's wife.

As we turned the corner to start descending I caught my first glimpse of Sarah, standing to Linda's left. She hadn't seen me yet, so I took a moment to look at her. Her walls were up, tight as she could hold them, but they were under assault. For as much as she held her no nonsense, all business face, those eyes betrayed the pain and grief battering against her. It broke my heart.

I'd been there, all too recently. Get through another handshake, another hug, another banal platitude, pass them off to whomever was standing to your left. Turn to the next and do it again.

So intense was her focus that she didn't see me until I was only about fifteen feet away. She glanced up at the line, taking in its length before looking away. Her eyes widened and she turned slowly back, gaze locked on mine. A million butterflies erupted in my stomach as I desperately prayed this was okay. And then her walls crumbled. She covered her mouth with her hand, jaw trembling behind it. Her eyes shone with tears as she took a step forward, barely keeping her balance.

She reached out with both hands and I stepped out of line. She staggered towards me, sobs shaking loose from her chest. I closed the distance between us and gathered her into my arms, holding her close as she wept bitter tears. I rocked her gently. "Let it go, let it all go."

I imagine people were staring, but I didn't care. A primal part of me growled in defiance, understanding only that my beloved was in pain, and dared anyone to try to hurt her again.

Sarah cried for nearly five minutes, as I simply supported her. Knowing her as I did, I guessed this was the first time she'd let herself grieve since she'd gotten that phone call.

"C'mon, let's go sit down." She didn't answer or let go of me, but she turned her hips so I could walk over to the first row of seats. I lowered us down carefully and Sarah pulled away slightly.

"Oh, I ruined your coat."

I chuckled through my own tears. "Stop it, you did not. It's just a little wet and snotsy. I'm a mom, I'm used to snotsy." Sarah laughed, a shy smile forming that warmed my heart. I reached into my purse and pulled out a pack of Kleenex, taking a tissue and dabbing at her cheeks a little. Sarah put her head back on my shoulder and a few more tears seeped out. "What now? What do I do now?"

"You go on. You wake up tomorrow and live your life, even though it hurts like hell. But you do it, because there are still people who love you and need you."

Sarah moved against my shoulder, looking up. "You practice that speech?"

"It's not mine. It's what Joan said to me at my dad's funeral. I hated her for it at the time. But she was right, as usual."

"Yeah." Sarah sat up. "Don't take this the wrong way, but how are you even here?"

"Well, I knew my four-wheel-drive SUV would be no match for a Michigan winter, so I hitched several of the local dogs to Heidi's plastic sled and yelled 'Mush!'

Sarah smiled, a real smile. She arched her eyebrow at me.

"Really. Mrs. Freeney's Yorkie was a surprisingly good lead dog until Sean Callaghan's Newfoundland ate her."

That earned a laugh, followed by a shaky sigh.

I let my eyes get serious for a second. "I wanted to be here for you, in case you needed me. I couldn't imagine being anywhere else."

"I wanted you here so badly. When you were in my room while I was packing I was mad at you, 'cause you weren't coming. I'm sorry, it was stupid of me." Sarah took a deep breath and looked back at the receiving line. "I need to get back." She stood up, taking my hand. "Come on, let me introduce you."

We slid into line just behind a young man shaking Sarah's mom's hand. As he moved away Maggie looked at me. Her expression was cold and hollow as I expressed my condolences.

"Good of you to come, Ms. Walker."

"Anything for Sarah."

A glint in her eye told me she didn't like that answer at all, and she turned to the next person in line. I wasn't going to judge her, though, not here. The tall, broad shouldered man standing next to her was a different story. I recognized his father's kind, intelligent gaze as Sarah introduced her brother Matthew. He shook my hand warmly as I told him how sorry I was.

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you, Connie, but I wish it were under different circumstances." He, in turn, introduced his wife Linda, who was soft spoken and shy. But that didn't imply weak. I could see the mama bear lurking behind her softly rounded features.

We waited a moment as the line moved on, and suddenly I was standing in front of one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. Rebecca, Sarah's younger sister, was several inches taller with bright, copper red hair. Her figure was slimmer than her sister's, with pale, porcelain skin. She had her father's keen look, but without the warmth and humor. As I shook her hand in I noted the sharp contrast between her cold hand and Sarah's warmth. As beautiful as she was, I knew which one I preferred.