When Sara’s father had died unexpectedly of a heart attack a few months after Kaylee was born, she saw firsthand what a bad thing it could be for one partner to coddle the other. Her father had controlled everything. Her mother had never paid a bill before, nor did she have a clue as to how much money they had in the bank. By being the man of the house in all aspects, he’d essentially ensured that his wife wouldn’t be able to stand on her own feet should something happen to him. Sara knew he hadn’t done it maliciously. He doted on his wife and wanted to take care of her. He didn’t want her to be upset over anything. Even though the doctor said that his heart attack was caused by blockages in several major arteries, she knew that the stress he had to be under at times couldn’t have been good for his health.
So now, Sara had taken over the finances for her mother. And Chris handled any type of repairs. For a while she attempted to get her mother involved each month when she went over the household account, but she’d wring her hands and make a million excuses why she couldn’t. Eventually it seemed easier and faster to do it herself. Hello pot, meet kettle. Their father had probably come to the same conclusion years ago, so how could she hold it against him? And if Sara was bad, Chris was worse. He treated their mother like fine china. And in his defense, their mother seemed to be a master at working them to her advantage. She had the “poor me” act down to a science. Plus, if she met any resistance, she could, and would, produce tears in five seconds flat. It was actually kind of impressive. Poor Kaylee didn’t stand a chance. Not only was her mother emotionally manipulative, but her grandmother was too. It’s totally genetics. At least Kaylee has me.
Basically, what it all boiled down to was that Sara had two kids to take care of. And Kaylee was the only one who wanted to learn new things. Their mother was firmly committed to being coddled, and didn’t seem to care who it inconvenienced. Sara loved her mother, but a part of her had also started resenting the fact that she seemed to want and expect her daughter to put aside any thoughts of having a life of her own. Before their father died, her mother had urged Sara to get out more. To meet someone and settle down. But that encouragement had packed up and skipped town. And in its place were guilt-laced words, such as “I don’t know what I’d do if you left me too, Sara.” Or the ever-popular “I’m so lucky you decided not to get married.” When exactly was that choice made? Congratulations, Sara, you’ve won a lifetime supply of mommy-sitting. Step right up and claim your prize.
“Hellooo, I know you’re there, I can hear you breathing.” Sara nearly jumped off the bed as her cousin’s raised voice came through the line. She’d been so busy brooding over her mother that she hadn’t been aware of pressing the speed dial for Chloe.
“Er—sorry about that.” She laughed as she reclined against the headboard. “I was a little distracted and missed you answering.”
“That was about five minutes ago,” Chloe said wryly. “I just put the call on speaker while I dried my hair.” Oh crap, had it really been that long?
If anyone would understand the deal with her mother, it was Chloe, but Sara didn’t feel like rehashing another exciting episode of “Why my world sucks ass” right now. She’d save that for a rare evening out and a fishbowl margarita. Better make that several if you’re going to get through it without sobbing uncontrollably. “I got a response,” she said excitedly. “Can you believe it? I was floored. I really had no expectations to begin with, and what few there were had pretty much dwindled away by now.”
“Sara, that’s wonderful,” Chloe exclaimed before asking, “Exactly what are we talking about? Wait—is this about the letter to the manager of the Walmart down the street from you? I hope you scored a gift card. That was a nasty cut you got off that dilapidated shopping cart. That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen. Good for you.”
For a moment she drew a complete blank. Walmart? What th— “Oh no, it’s not that,” she replied, remembering her rant about being stabbed by a rogue cart. “Remember the Easter card I sent to the radio station? The ones they were forwarding to deployed soldiers?”
“Er—vaguely,” she replied. Sara could almost hear the wheels turning in Chloe’s head as she racked her brain. It was tempting to let her go awhile longer, but she was too excited to share the news. So she repeated the details once again, then added, “Anyway, tonight I got an e-mail from Major Gabriel Randall.”
Chloe whistled under her breath, “That name reminds me of either a naughty pastor or a virginal nerd. Well, actually he could be both things. What’d he say? Did he send a picture? Wait, did you send one?” She was firing off questions so fast that Sara was beginning to wish she’d texted her instead of calling.
“No, he didn’t send a picture, and neither did I. This was to support the troops, not try to pick them up.” Chloe asked her to read the e-mail, which took only seconds.
“I’ve been more stimulated by bad Mexican food. Talk about lack of personality. Did he at least toss an emoticon or two in there? Something—like anything—to show he’s not an android.”
Sara laughed, having had similar thoughts. “Maybe it’s a military thing. Wouldn’t it have been more surprising if he used some kind of Snoop Dogg lingo?”
“I guess you’ve got a point. Although it would have been funny as hell. Have you responded? I assume you’re going to . . . but you should wait a few days. Don’t want to seem too available, you know? Act like you’re a social dynamo. It took a while, but you finally managed to get back to him. Also, keep it as brief as he did. You know how impatient men can be? Leave him wanting more, not nodding off while reading your mini-series.”
Sara inwardly winced. “Chloe, this isn’t a dating app. I’m simply writing to one of our soldiers who is off fighting to ensure our freedom. Our interaction isn’t about finding a man . . . and I doubt he’d be thinking anything like that about me either. It’s just a program to look after our soldiers.” She felt a little uneasy at Chloe’s assumption. She’d never been the type to give so that she could get something in return. And she certainly hadn’t sent the card hoping for a date.
“You’re so right. Sorry, Sara. Did you write back already?” she asked with less enthusiasm.
Sara chuckled. “I did. It was short, though. He didn’t say much, so I didn’t have a lot to go on.” And that was an understatement. Still, Sara knew what the contact was about. Support for the men and women serving our country.
“What did you write?” She was tempted to lie, but in the end, she read the e-mail exactly as it was written, fully expecting another lecture. But surprisingly, Chloe giggled. Not just a polite chuckle either, but a full-fledged roar of laughter. “You sound like a basket of crazy,” she gasped out. “That was freaking great, I love it.” Talk about a back-handed compliment. Is she screwing with me?