couldn’t seem to form the words. They felt like too much of a concession. Too weak. Too . . . honest.
She listened while Joe made arrangements with his office to change his return ticket. Sarah called her own office and did the same. Her hair had dried into a thousand mini spirals by the time she realized it, and she wondered how she lost track. She usually obsessed over every little thing her unruly hair was doing, especially if there were anyone else in the vicinity to see it, but for some reason she forgot to be self-conscious about it around Joe.
Of course, it could be because what he said before was true: he had already seen her. In and out of a shower, in and out of clothes, hair perfect, hair wild, Sarah laughing, Sarah in ecstasy, Sarah crying. What did she possibly have to hide from him anymore? At least where it concerned her appearance.
As soon as he hung up the phone, Joe leaned back against the couch and linked his hands behind his head. “Feel like getting some fresh air today, Red? You look like you might be up for it. Get out of this hotel room, go for a drive.”
“Yeah, actually, that sounds nice,” she said, already loving the idea of it. She had work to do, but that could wait. Her parents wouldn’t mind if she spent some of the time she was with them that weekend poring over documents. She knew they liked to see her doing her law work, the same way they liked watching her study over the holidays while she was in law school. They took great pride in Sarah’s accomplishments. She liked knowing that.
On the other hand, it was why she found it so impossible to call them right away after the events of April 6. She waited days to build up the courage to tell them. By then they already knew, of course—it had been all over the news both locally and nationally—and they left phone messages checking to see if she was all right. All she could do when she called them back was stutter a few words before she spent the rest of the phone call sobbing.
“It’s cold out,” Joe said. “You’ll want to layer as much as you have.”
Sarah pulled from her luggage the workout capris and T-shirt.
“That’s a start,” Joe said. Then he dialed his phone to make another business call.
When it became obvious he intended to wait there while she changed, Sarah dug into her luggage for a fresh pair of underwear and her workout bra. The black lace one still bore traces of her illness, and she intended to give it a thorough scrubbing once she got home. She took the workout clothes and the Utah sweats with her back into the bathroom and shut the door.
Once she was dressed, she evaluated her hair again in the mirror. She could take the time to wet it down and then straighten it, but decided she’d rather get outside sooner and feel the wind on her face instead of the breeze from the blow dryer.
She did, however, take the time to add a light layer of makeup, just mascara, a little blush, and some lip gloss, so she wouldn’t look so sickly even to herself. And in a way she intended it as a gift to Joe, who was probably tired of seeing her look so pale and clammy over the past few days.
Joe wrapped up the call when he saw she was ready, then closed his laptop and left it on the table.
“Where are we going?” Sarah asked him.
“Up the mountain,” Joe said. “I just need to make one quick stop along the way.”
***
As soon as Sarah saw which parking lot they were pulling into, her throat went dry.
“Burke . . . ”
“You’re never dressed for the weather,” he said. “Come on. This will only take a minute.”
He led the way into Walmart while Sarah hung back. Then she realized she was being stupid. She could walk into a Walmart with Joe. She wasn’t a child.
He didn’t wait for her, but headed off toward a familiar section of the store. When Sarah arrived, he already had a set in his hands. “Blue still good?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice. Joe handed her the hat and gloves, then started walking again.
If he heads for the condoms . . .
But of course he didn’t, Sarah realized a moment later as Joe angled toward the shoe section.