think so if they saw where we are right now, but I’m telling you: good.”
She filled Angie in on everything that had happened since the last time they sat together in that office. Meanwhile Angie powered through her bowl and quickly heated another.
The door to the gym opened, and Angie’s next client came in. He was a tall, gangly man with bright red hair and an immediate smile for Sarah.
“Hello, fellow ginger.”
She laughed. “Hello.” She started to stand, but Angie motioned her down.
“Go ahead and warm up,” Angie told the client. “I’ll be out in five.”
The man nodded and left the two of them alone.
Angie lowered her voice. “So. You’re both without jobs, but you’re deeply in love, and you have me to thank for both.”
Sarah smiled. “Something like that.”
“When are you coming back to workout?”
“I’m not sure. Depends on . . . ” Sarah rubbed her thumb and her third finger together, in the universal sign for money.
“You can always go on credit,” Angie said.
“Not this time, but thank you. I know you have a business to run. I’m not going to be one of those dead-beat clients who keeps using you but never pays.”
“Sarah, you know I don’t think that about you.”
“I know. And I appreciate that. But I’d feel better if I could pay as I go.” Sarah stood and stepped toward the door. “And it’ll happen—I know it will. Then I’ll be back and you can kick my butt again.”
Angie walked her to the front door. Then she gave Sarah a hug. “I have a couple’s discount, you know. Get your man in here, too. I’ll be happy to boss you both around.”
“I’ll call you in the new year,” Sarah promised. Then she waved to the tall redhead. He kept jumping rope, but gave her a nod.
“Thanks for the Crack,” Angie said.
“Any time. Thanks for calling me a wuss. I needed it.”
“Hey,” Angie said with a smile, “whatever it takes.”
***
“Hi, sweetheart.” Her mother greeted her at the door wearing her traditional Christmas apron, the same one she had put on for holiday cooking for as long as Sarah could remember. The snowman on the front was looking a little tattered, but otherwise as cheerful as ever.
Sarah interrupted her father’s football watching long enough to give him a hug, then carried her bag to her old bedroom. The room was still pink and white, the way she’d kept it since she was a little girl and even later in college. She still had her old canopy bed, too: her first experience in Flourish back when her parents could barely afford it. It had been a big deal then, and it still was to her. Even though she knew any other adult woman would look at her room and snicker.
Sarah set her bag on the floor, then lay on her bed for a few minutes, just soaking in the place. This was where she had studied her brains out night after night. Where she made lists and plans for her future.
Where she had tried again and again to call Joe on Christmas six years ago to find out what was going on. That’s when she finally took matters into her own hands and searched the public records. And when she had cried on Joe’s behalf when she saw the notice about his mother.
A long time ago, Sarah thought. A long way to finally come around full circle.
Her mother knocked on the open door. She smiled at the sight of Sarah stretched out on the frilly bed.
“You still don’t want something more modern?” her mother asked. “Something more grown up?”
“Absolutely not,” Sarah answered.
She wondered if little boys ever felt that way about the race car beds they finally outgrew. She could think of a few men she had met who probably wouldn’t mind sleeping in a bed frame shaped like a Ferrari.
“Dinner’ll be ready in about an hour,” her mother said. She came in and sat on the edge of Sarah’s bed. “How’s work been? How’s Joe?” she added in an icy tone.
“Good . . . fine . . . ” Sarah wondered if her mother could hear the falseness in her voice. She had meant to tell her about Joe right away, but somehow now didn’t seem like the right moment.
Wuss, she could hear Angie say.
“Well, come out and talk to us. Your father’ll turn off the game. We want to hear what you’ve been doing.”
Sleeping with opposing counsel, declaring my love to opposing counsel, resigning from my