hair shining in the sun, never looking left or right. People would say ‘There goes that Savannah Kendall. Ain’t she something?’”
If only Savannah could find the moment when the little yellow-haired girl bought into the notion that everything in her world had to be perfect. She’d undo it in an instant. She’d tell that little girl, not to believe it. It would’ve surely changed her life.
“Well maybe I should’ve been looking left and right,” Savannah said. “Anyway, it was a long time ago.”
“I don’t care how long ago it was,” Neenie said. “Down inside, you’re still that little sassy pants.”
A slow grin spread across Savannah’s taut face. “Sassy pants. I haven’t heard that in a while.” She searched Neenie’s face, looking for the high-headed girl living behind her wise friend’s eyes.
“I wonder what happened to me?”
“Sometimes life has a way of just slapping the sass right out of a person,” Neenie said flatly. “Don’t you worry, though. Yours may be lying low right now, but it’s still in there. ”
“I hope you’re right.” Savannah took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “Because if I’m going to follow through with this, I’m going to need all the sass I can find.”
“D addy promised he’d be here.” Peeking through the backstage curtains, Angela kept one eye on the back door of the auditorium.
“Then I’m sure he will be,” Savannah said. Dammit, Price.
Angela got caught on the edge in Savannah’s voice and said, “Momma, please don’t fight with Daddy tonight.”
Savannah stepped back, smiling brightly. “Of course not, honey. This is your big night.”
She pulled back the heavy theater curtains and searched the crowd for her missing husband. Families were streaming in, jockeying for the best seats. Anticipation hung in the air along with the cheap Christmas decorations hanging from the rafters.
Mrs. Tooley, clipboard in hand and pencil hanging precariously from behind one ear, arrived backstage to shoo all parents and bystanders from the wings.
Savannah hugged her daughter tight. “You don’t need it, but good luck.” She ran her hand over the top of Angela’s head. The eyes Angela lifted to her mother were a little wild, glazed with stage fright’s last-minute panic.
“Once the lights go up, you’ll be fine,” Savannah said. “Now, break a leg, Baby Girl.”
Savannah slipped through the theater’s side door and made her way to seats that PJ had been holding. She moved her coat to the side and sat down with an exasperated huff.
“Any sign of your father?” she asked, rummaging in her purse for her lipstick.
“Not yet,” PJ said. “He’ll be here. He knows how important this is to Ange.”
“Of course.”
Her hand trembled as she did her lips. She was still rattled from her morning. Unable to sleep, she’d been up with the first light. Stepping out the back door to retrieve the morning paper, she found her art class painting leaning against the brick steps. She picked it up with both hands and peered down the driveway, her heart flipping over in her chest. No sign of anything or anyone. No car driving away from the curb. Clutching her artwork in her arms, she stood and stared down the long drive, imagining she could feel the heat of his hands on the canvas. Adam had been here. She’d just missed him.
As the lights in the auditorium dimmed, signaling the start of the show, Price slid in beside her.
“Sorry,” he said.
She nodded, applauding cheerfully.
Price leaned across her and tapped PJ on the arm. “Hey, Buddy.”
PJ lit up.
Then again, everybody lit up around Price.
“How’s Ange doing?” Price whispered to Savannah. His breath on her ear felt invasive, as if a stranger had breathed on her.
“Nervous. And she was worried you wouldn’t make it.”
“No worries, I told her I’d be here. And here I am.”
“So you are.” Savannah could feel his shoulder pressing against her own,
If only Savannah could find the moment when the little yellow-haired girl bought into the notion that everything in her world had to be perfect. She’d undo it in an instant. She’d tell that little girl, not to believe it. It would’ve surely changed her life.
“Well maybe I should’ve been looking left and right,” Savannah said. “Anyway, it was a long time ago.”
“I don’t care how long ago it was,” Neenie said. “Down inside, you’re still that little sassy pants.”
A slow grin spread across Savannah’s taut face. “Sassy pants. I haven’t heard that in a while.” She searched Neenie’s face, looking for the high-headed girl living behind her wise friend’s eyes.
“I wonder what happened to me?”
“Sometimes life has a way of just slapping the sass right out of a person,” Neenie said flatly. “Don’t you worry, though. Yours may be lying low right now, but it’s still in there. ”
“I hope you’re right.” Savannah took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “Because if I’m going to follow through with this, I’m going to need all the sass I can find.”
“D addy promised he’d be here.” Peeking through the backstage curtains, Angela kept one eye on the back door of the auditorium.
“Then I’m sure he will be,” Savannah said. Dammit, Price.
Angela got caught on the edge in Savannah’s voice and said, “Momma, please don’t fight with Daddy tonight.”
Savannah stepped back, smiling brightly. “Of course not, honey. This is your big night.”
She pulled back the heavy theater curtains and searched the crowd for her missing husband. Families were streaming in, jockeying for the best seats. Anticipation hung in the air along with the cheap Christmas decorations hanging from the rafters.
Mrs. Tooley, clipboard in hand and pencil hanging precariously from behind one ear, arrived backstage to shoo all parents and bystanders from the wings.
Savannah hugged her daughter tight. “You don’t need it, but good luck.” She ran her hand over the top of Angela’s head. The eyes Angela lifted to her mother were a little wild, glazed with stage fright’s last-minute panic.
“Once the lights go up, you’ll be fine,” Savannah said. “Now, break a leg, Baby Girl.”
Savannah slipped through the theater’s side door and made her way to seats that PJ had been holding. She moved her coat to the side and sat down with an exasperated huff.
“Any sign of your father?” she asked, rummaging in her purse for her lipstick.
“Not yet,” PJ said. “He’ll be here. He knows how important this is to Ange.”
“Of course.”
Her hand trembled as she did her lips. She was still rattled from her morning. Unable to sleep, she’d been up with the first light. Stepping out the back door to retrieve the morning paper, she found her art class painting leaning against the brick steps. She picked it up with both hands and peered down the driveway, her heart flipping over in her chest. No sign of anything or anyone. No car driving away from the curb. Clutching her artwork in her arms, she stood and stared down the long drive, imagining she could feel the heat of his hands on the canvas. Adam had been here. She’d just missed him.
As the lights in the auditorium dimmed, signaling the start of the show, Price slid in beside her.
“Sorry,” he said.
She nodded, applauding cheerfully.
Price leaned across her and tapped PJ on the arm. “Hey, Buddy.”
PJ lit up.
Then again, everybody lit up around Price.
“How’s Ange doing?” Price whispered to Savannah. His breath on her ear felt invasive, as if a stranger had breathed on her.
“Nervous. And she was worried you wouldn’t make it.”
“No worries, I told her I’d be here. And here I am.”
“So you are.” Savannah could feel his shoulder pressing against her own,