--A Slice of Heaven--

draft

 --Sara Michaels--

Not one phone call so far. Thirty-minutes has passed since he left. “Please,” I mumble, “have him chicken out.” I am not ready. Again, I check the time: 1835, which translates five additional minutes. My thumb is busy working my wedding band, thinking of the telegram. Who gets telegrams these days, I thought? At the forty-minute mark, I relax. The phone remains silent; some nights are like that. ‘November Rain,’ softly plays in the background, featuring David Garrett’s violin. What a fitting selection, and I take the opportunity to call the Embassy to leave a message.  I was shocked when Phileas answered the phone. 

 

“Madame, the Ambassador is otherwise occupied, we are hosting a small gathering tonight. Sara, I am sorry, call us on Monday,” she said. 

 

This exchange has happened so many times we are on first name bases. “That’s fine Phileas, tell Jamie I’ll try her again later.”

 

A decision must be made. I know what I will do, but I am not ready to say it aloud. It seems that those brown eyes in the silver picture frame follow me. “If only I could let it go,” but in the midst of everything, I cannot. It is too late for hate. Only the emptiness remains, and that nagging question. I take Vince’s picture and place it in the top desk drawer as if I have placed him in a timeout. Then begin today’s log to fill my mind with paperwork.  

 

--Thad Powers--"

I am relieved the rain has stopped. I feel silly and impulsive, bulletproof, and wonderfully alive. A 2 liter of pop is tucked under my arm, with a medium pizza in-tow, and two of everything balances on top. Forty-five minutes is too long. I worry she will not see me when I get back. Silently a prayer is offered for mercy and a new beginning. Once I reach the door, the small print jumps out at me ‘The Sara Michaels Foundation.’ What can I do but shake my head, “her boss,” I mumble to myself? 

 

 

--Talking till Sunup--

 

With the ringing of the bell, Sarah sat straight-up and fussed with her hair. She repressed a nervous smile once she realized what she had done. Everything had happened so fast earlier she had not noticed just how attractive he is. For all his positive qualities, her favorite had to be his tender smile.

 

“Well, hello, beautiful, I’m back,” Thad said in a full and happy voice. “Where do you want everything?”

 

Sara pointed toward a small table in the corner of the room and started that way. 

 

“First things first. I’m 35, and you?"

 

“31.”

 

“Okay, second, I’m divorced, going on three years now. I am totally captivated by you and want to get to know you. However, just to make sure I know where everything stands,” he reached for her hand, running his finger over her wedding band. “I’d like to talk about this.” 

 

He felt her stiffen. The color drained from her face. For a moment, he thought she might break and run. Feeling the tension, he added, “but let’s eat first and shoot the breeze,” his smile defuses the tension. Sara could not help but smile back.

 

“I’d like that. It smells wonderful.” She said to change the topic for a while. “Are you from here?”

 

“Born and raised.”

 

The red phone on the desk remained silent. They ate and talked. It took some time, but soon they even laughed. Thad told of his childhood, of his two brothers. She seemed fascinated by his business, ‘Back in the Saddle,’ therapy ranch. Where he trains horses to help injured people become more mobile. He owns the ranch with his brothers. Travis is a certified personal trainer and licensed Massage Therapist. While brother Trent runs the business of a 200-acre spread. 

“We’ve had good success and love it.”

 

“What we do is so similar. Here at ‘Reach,’ I help people move forward, to let go of the pain from their past. The hotline is manned by those who have been on the edge of disaster and now have new hope and a desire to share it. I like to take the weekends. Most nights, the number is forwarded to my cell phone, but I wanted to do a little paperwork tonight, so I have everything squared away before next week.”  

 

“What's going on next week?” Thad asked, running his finger across her knuckles. 

 

“My life is complicated; I’m not ready to talk about it with you.”

 

“That’s fair." 

 

Sara jumped as her cell phone rang. “I’m sorry, but I have to take this.”

 

She rose and stepped away from the table. “Hello,”

…

“Bonjour Phileas.”

…

“I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

…

“Can I still come on Monday, and see for myself?”

…

“Please, have her call me. I need to come.”

…

“Thank you, till morning then. I’ll wait for your call.” Sara closed her eyes and just stood there in the middle of the room. 

 

Thad walked up next to her, and whispered, “need a hug?” she turned toward him as his arms wrapped around her.

 

“I’d like to try and tell you what has happened.”

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

ok ... i'm hooked, Cherrie! i think their work backgrounds are fascinating .. super original and creative .. lots and lots that could be developed just around their character/work connections .. the other thing is the shock i feel at ... this is apparently their first physical meeting with little background .. and she is married and he is not .. a real and believable switch these days ... interesting format .. like a play or script introduction to characters .. oh! i see there are previous chapters .. going to read those and catch up
E.

[Cherrie Palmer]

I hope to make this a full on old school mystery,

[Einstein Noodle]

right on ... i will keep my eye out for the next

[Cherrie Palmer]

I did sneak in one more chapter but won't get to add to it until Saturday.

[Cherrie Palmer]

You know thr work/ theropy aspect appealed to me but the little voice of Miss Marple took over, and I couldn't resist trying my hand.

[Einstein Noodle]

ok .. on to the next! :)

[Coyote Poetry]

Very nice use of conversation dear Cherrie. I liked the honest words shared. Better to show your cards early to stop a mistake. I enjoyed the chapter. Had a personal feel of the characters. Thank you my dear friend for sharing the amazing chapter.
Coyote