features and her quiet personality. Beth was not quiet or delicate. Her dark hair and eyes and olive skin required bolder accessories, ones that made a statement.
Sara was content to purr.
Beth naturally roared.
“No, it isn’t.” Robert typically stuck closer to Sara than glue on a stamp, terrified that something Beth said would sink in and Sara would ditch him. Oh, how Beth wished she had that kind of influence. But she didn’t. Resigned, she snagged a paper towel from the roll and then dabbed at a water spot on the front of her bright red blouse.
Anger simmered in Sara’s eyes. “Don’t pretend to be concerned. You hate him.”
“I don’t hate him.” Here it came. An anger dump. Scared women acted angry. It was one of the mysteries of life right up there with crying when happy. Beth shored up for it.
“You and Robert have been at war for six months. I know. I’ve been caught between the rock and the hard place, trying to keep you from killing each other.”
“It hasn’t been that bad.” It could have been, but Beth had bitten her tongue until it bled to keep Sara from having to choose between them. Not that Beth had a single doubt what Sara would do. The man was her husband.
“It has been that bad. Maybe worse.”
Okay, so Beth and Robert had been at war. Well, an undeclared war. When they couldn’t avoid each other, they were civil but clearly on hostile ground. Robert had brought that on, systematically undercutting Beth and Sara’s friendship and causing friction at SaBe. Sara couldn’t see it; she was in love with the jerk. But Beth’s vision was crystal-clear.
Treading on dangerous ground, she carefully framed her response. “I am concerned. Everything that matters to you concerns me.”
Sara’s anger drained. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.” Sara cupped her head with her hands, squeezed her eyes shut, and then slowly reopened them. “I know you’re concerned—at least, for me. But I know how you feel about Robert too. You say you don’t hate him, yet …”
“I don’t like him?” Beth suggested, keeping it real. Sara nodded and Beth stopped sponging the tabletop. “I don’t lie to you—never have and not starting now. I don’t like Robert, I never did and frankly I never will. But we’re family, Sara. I love you, and you love him. So there it is.”
“When I grow up, I want to be just like you.” Sara gave her a watery smile. “My marriage has been hard on us and SaBe, but …” Her voice faded. A strange sadness filled her face. “I wish this had never happened.” She lowered her gaze. “I wish everything had stayed the same. If I could go back …”
What was that about? Go back to before Robert? Or to before Sara and Beth had gotten off on the wrong foot about Robert? “Forget it, okay?” No good could come of going down that road. “Family is family. No man can change that.” On Robert, the lines in the sand had been drawn and neither of them would ever cross over to the other’s side. “We’re fine. No matter what, we’ll always be fine. That’s a promise, okay?”
“Okay.” Tears had Sara blinking hard. She wanted to say something, nearly did, but then fell back and regrouped. “I’m sorry. You aren’t to blame for any of this. I’m—I’m just …”
Terrified. Reliving the worst tragedy in your life, the death of your parents . “You’re worried. First the club attack and now this—sure, you’re worried.”
Sara dropped her gaze. “Yes.”
Beth drank from her glass and then shrugged. She could afford to be gracious; the anger dump was behind them and Sara had been reassured. Considering everything, that was the best Beth could offer. “No problem. We help each other through hard times.”
“In ways you can’t imagine. God willing, you’ll never be able to imagine them.”
Beth stilled. “What does that mean?”
She waved a hand. “Nothing. Just … nothing.”
“You’ve been dropping cryptic bombs on me for a
Sara was content to purr.
Beth naturally roared.
“No, it isn’t.” Robert typically stuck closer to Sara than glue on a stamp, terrified that something Beth said would sink in and Sara would ditch him. Oh, how Beth wished she had that kind of influence. But she didn’t. Resigned, she snagged a paper towel from the roll and then dabbed at a water spot on the front of her bright red blouse.
Anger simmered in Sara’s eyes. “Don’t pretend to be concerned. You hate him.”
“I don’t hate him.” Here it came. An anger dump. Scared women acted angry. It was one of the mysteries of life right up there with crying when happy. Beth shored up for it.
“You and Robert have been at war for six months. I know. I’ve been caught between the rock and the hard place, trying to keep you from killing each other.”
“It hasn’t been that bad.” It could have been, but Beth had bitten her tongue until it bled to keep Sara from having to choose between them. Not that Beth had a single doubt what Sara would do. The man was her husband.
“It has been that bad. Maybe worse.”
Okay, so Beth and Robert had been at war. Well, an undeclared war. When they couldn’t avoid each other, they were civil but clearly on hostile ground. Robert had brought that on, systematically undercutting Beth and Sara’s friendship and causing friction at SaBe. Sara couldn’t see it; she was in love with the jerk. But Beth’s vision was crystal-clear.
Treading on dangerous ground, she carefully framed her response. “I am concerned. Everything that matters to you concerns me.”
Sara’s anger drained. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.” Sara cupped her head with her hands, squeezed her eyes shut, and then slowly reopened them. “I know you’re concerned—at least, for me. But I know how you feel about Robert too. You say you don’t hate him, yet …”
“I don’t like him?” Beth suggested, keeping it real. Sara nodded and Beth stopped sponging the tabletop. “I don’t lie to you—never have and not starting now. I don’t like Robert, I never did and frankly I never will. But we’re family, Sara. I love you, and you love him. So there it is.”
“When I grow up, I want to be just like you.” Sara gave her a watery smile. “My marriage has been hard on us and SaBe, but …” Her voice faded. A strange sadness filled her face. “I wish this had never happened.” She lowered her gaze. “I wish everything had stayed the same. If I could go back …”
What was that about? Go back to before Robert? Or to before Sara and Beth had gotten off on the wrong foot about Robert? “Forget it, okay?” No good could come of going down that road. “Family is family. No man can change that.” On Robert, the lines in the sand had been drawn and neither of them would ever cross over to the other’s side. “We’re fine. No matter what, we’ll always be fine. That’s a promise, okay?”
“Okay.” Tears had Sara blinking hard. She wanted to say something, nearly did, but then fell back and regrouped. “I’m sorry. You aren’t to blame for any of this. I’m—I’m just …”
Terrified. Reliving the worst tragedy in your life, the death of your parents . “You’re worried. First the club attack and now this—sure, you’re worried.”
Sara dropped her gaze. “Yes.”
Beth drank from her glass and then shrugged. She could afford to be gracious; the anger dump was behind them and Sara had been reassured. Considering everything, that was the best Beth could offer. “No problem. We help each other through hard times.”
“In ways you can’t imagine. God willing, you’ll never be able to imagine them.”
Beth stilled. “What does that mean?”
She waved a hand. “Nothing. Just … nothing.”
“You’ve been dropping cryptic bombs on me for a
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