Chasing Fireflies (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 2

  “That’s because we’re your family, sweetie,” Saige says, reaching out and touching my hand. “We always see you.”

  I don’t remind her of the conversation a moment ago. Instead, I’m touched by her kind words.

  “Look, here’s my point,” Saige continues, “I’m just asking that you adopt that same mental attitude you did as a child and always wear your magic cloak while you’re in China.”

  “Okay,” I say. “I can do that.” She has no idea how well I can do that.

  Samantha’s eyebrows are furrowed with worry. “Will you promise to fly under the radar? And try to blend in?”

  That’s an easy one. Story of my life. “Sure.”

  Sadie is quiet, staring at the table as if she’s deep in thought. “Did your magic cloak work outside of this home?”

  Yes, it did. A little too well. But I liked going unnoticed. “Yes. It worked perfectly.”

  “Oh, Savannah.” Sadie wipes away an unexpected tear. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me. I liked it that way.”

  “Just be safe, okay?” Sadie whispers.

  “I will, I promise.”

  “Okay then, looks like our baby sister is going to China.” Saige grins widely.

  I smile with relief. I’m going no matter what, but it’s so nice to have the support of my sisters. “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

  I hope the concept of my magic cloak will keep my sisters from worrying about me and put their minds at ease.

  Perhaps I should tell them the whole truth . . . and yet, I’m hesitant.

  I set down my spoon and stand. “It’s been a long day, I guess I should get to bed. I love you all. Thanks for your support.” I’m glad we talked it out. I really didn’t want to leave an upset family behind. It would’ve weighed on me every second. When I’m almost to the door, I turn and face my sisters. I know my expression is anxiety ridden.

  “What is it, Savannah?”

  “There’s something you should probably know.”

  Sadie moans. “Oh no, now what?”

  “It’s not bad, Sadie.” I suppose this knowledge will bring them peace of mind and I decide to share my secret. “My magic cloak . . . I’ve worn it all my life. I’ve never outgrown it and I’ve never taken it off.”

  Of course, the thought process behind it has changed drastically as I’ve matured. But I still hide behind my wall of invisibility as if it’s my armor.

  In spite of my sisters’ wishes, I wonder if it’s time to take off the magic cloak. Perhaps it’s time to come out of my shell.

  I imagine lifting the magic cloak from my shoulders, removing it for the first time in twenty-one years. I think about flipping it around until it rests in my fingers in front of me. Then with exaggerated flair, I imagine myself tossing it away.

  Will the symbolic act make me feel free? Or just exposed? Laid bare?

  I shiver. I’d feel naked without it.

  No, I can’t do it. My magic cloak needs to stay right where it’s at. I can easily comply with my sisters’ wishes and wear it to China with no problem.

  The truth of the matter is I like being invisible.

  “Oh, sweetie,” Saige says as she gets up and comes toward me, arms outstretched. “I love you, Savannah. Just be safe. Please be safe.”

  Samantha and Sadie follow and we embrace in a huge group hug.

  Samantha kisses me on the cheek. “Love ya, sis.”

  Sadie kisses the other cheek. “So much.”

  If I thought I was invisible to them, I was sadly mistaken and the thought warms me.

  One thing I know for sure, I’ll be on my way to find Paul in just two short weeks.

  Chapter One

  March

  Five Months Earlier

  “PLEASE DON’T LEAVE me, Mom. Please.”

  I sit at my mother’s bedside, holding back tears. Darling Emma appears frail, waiflike, not anything like the woman I know and love. The March sunshine filters through the slats of the blinds, casting shadowy stripes across the hospital room.

  My grandmother, at the ripe age of nineteen, had taken one look at the pink bundle in her arms and promptly named her newborn baby Darling Emma. She’d thought her new daughter was the most . . . well, darling thing she’d ever seen. Smitten, her husband had gone along with the name.

  My mother, however, did not appreciate the name and had gone by Emma for most of her life. But she’d nicknamed her own brood, Darling Daughters, labeling me and my sisters as “darling” both figuratively and literally.

  I’ve never minded the nickname. I enjoy the play on words.

  Darling Emma cups my cheek with a trembling hand, her skin feeling like delicate parchment paper. “Darling daughter, please don’t be sad.” Her voice is crackly and weak. “It’s my time.”

  “We don’t want you to leave us. We’re all here, Mom. Saige, Samantha, Sadie, and all of your grandchildren.”

  “Sweet Savannah, you, your sisters, and my grandchildren are the light of my life, a legacy I am proud of. I can leave this life knowing I leave behind a great heritage. I have no regrets. My heart pounds with happiness at the mere thought of each of you.”

  My father, Walter Tate, passed unexpectedly only a month ago. My mother has steadily declined ever since, seeming to age by the day. Already, with her silver hair framing her face, she appears angelic, as if she has one foot on earth and one foot in heaven. I have every intention of keeping her here on earth.

  “I know you miss Dad. But I’ll keep you company. You can move in with me. I’d love it and we’d have so much fun together.” She’d be doing me a favor. The horizon of life doesn’t look too promising for me.

  “No, dear girl. You have a life to live and I’d be holding you back.”

  When I start to object, my mother’s feeble fingers lightly touch my mouth to hush me.

  “Savannah, you’ll always be my baby, even now when you’re twenty-six years old.” Her voice wavers unsteadily as she tries to express herself in her weakened state. “You were a surprise to us all. I thought my child bearing years were over, and then along you came, ten years junior to my youngest child. You were a joy to raise. Quiet and unassuming, content to spend your time watching your sisters and their crazy antics. But it’s your time now, my dear sweet girl. No more watching.”

  “Mom . . .” I whisper, angst evident in my tone.

  “Life will happen for you, Savannah. I know it will.”

  The defeated feeling that sometimes besieges me must be etched in my features because Darling Emma lifts her head off the pillow with strength she doesn’t possess, ready to object.

  “Don’t give up, Savannah. I know life has thrown you some hard knocks. But you are strong, stronger than you think. I know you’ll find your special someone, I know you will. Keep searching. I want you to have love in your life, a love like I have known. It’s my greatest wish for you, the utmost desire of my heart. You are a special girl, Savannah. Never doubt your worth. Promise me you’ll never give up on life. Promise me you’ll demand a life that requires all the love inside of you, a life that reaches inside of you and squeezes out every ounce of love from your heart. Only then will you find happiness.”

  I have no idea how to find that kind of life for myself.

  Mom doesn’t mention my obsessive search for Paul, even though I know she’s never approved of my determination to find him. Instead she’s doing as she’s always done, kindly leading me by the hand toward another path.

  “I promise, Mom. But I want you to be a part of that life.”

  Mom shakes her head in the negative as she looks me in the eyes. “It’s time for you to find your own life, Savannah. Did you know your father and I went on a walk at the park every night over the past few years? We held hands, just like we did when we were first dating. I haven’t gone to bed without a proper goodnight kiss in fifty-four years. I can’t sleep without it. The night is so cold without your father. I feel lost without him.” She t
akes a deep breath, wheezing from the effort, and it scares me. “I want you to have that kind of love.”

  I’d always found my parents heartwarming to watch. After fifty-four years of marriage, it was as if they had combined to make one person. I’ve always envied their successful relationship.

  I long to find a partnership with someone, a companionship just like my parents had enjoyed. I even yearn for it, a silent but ever present desire of my heart.

  It’s not likely to happen for me.

  I’m broken.

  And now my mom lay dying, her health having declined because half of her is suddenly missing, as if a part of her has been torn away; ripped violently from her flesh. As with so many of the most painful things in life, the experience has left behind a huge, gaping sore, invisible to the human eye. It’s a dent in her soul, one she can’t recover from, almost as if she’s dying of a broken heart.

  Crimson highlights Mom’s cheeks. “Don’t let one man ruin you, Savannah. He’s just one man in a world filled with many wonderful men.”

  I knew the conversation would somehow turn to Paul Ellis, my former fiancé.

  “I know he hurt you and broke your confidence. Just because he didn’t see your worth doesn’t mean other men will feel the same way.”

  Why do mothers have the power to read their children’s minds? Sometimes Mom’s ability to know what I’m thinking is downright scary.

  Paul Ellis’ actions definitely threw me for a loop, making me wonder if anyone will ever want me. I hate the way my attitude has changed when it comes to my future. I hate that I let him have that kind of power over me.

  “Savannah, it’s our turn now,” Sadie interrupts from the doorway.

  My sisters and their children are waiting for their turn with their mother and grandmother. They all know it’s a last goodbye. The vibrant woman who has been our strength—our rock—all of our lives is slipping away before our very eyes.

  I panic. I’m not ready to say goodbye.

  Mom reaches out and holds my hand; the light touch terrifies me. She has no strength whatsoever.

  “Find your life, Savannah. No more watching.”

  It’s the last thing my mother ever says to me.

  Chapter Two

  May

  I PARK MYSELF on a campus bench with the intention of doing nothing more than lazily enjoying the breeze on my face. The Austin heat isn’t so bad today. Of course, May is always a pleasant month in Texas. The proverbial May showers have turned everything a vibrant shade of green. The hint of summer hangs in the air, teasing me with visions of lazily sunbathing next to an inviting pool. I have a perfect view of the infamous tower and amazing fountain that grace the University of Texas campus. I appreciate the clever construction. Sometimes it seems lost on most of the college crowd.

  I polish off an apple and quietly observe the passersby. Each student appears intent on getting to the next class, absorbed in their own thoughts, stress evident in their features. It’s finals week, after all.

  I love to people watch. If I really pay attention, I’m sure I can read the emotions on a person’s face. Body language is a fascinating art. People say so much without saying anything at all.

  What am I saying right now?

  Worry, perhaps. In spite of my carefree posture on a campus bench, my mind is in turmoil, ticking ahead on overdrive. My face probably mirrors my concern as I ask the million dollar question for the hundredth time.

  What should I do with my life?

  So much for simply enjoying the breeze. If only my brain had an OFF button.

  One week from today I’m officially graduating with my Master’s Degree in Education. I’ve worked for this day, long and hard. Regardless, I feel my shoulders slump. Now that my educational goals have been met, I feel like I’m at a bit of a loose end.

  If only I could call my mother and seek her wise counsel. The last two months since I lost her have seemed beyond lonely. My mom had always been my best friend. Losing both my mother and father over a short span of time feels as though the rug has been pulled out from under me. I’m still regaining my balance.

  Several job offers have rolled in. It’s not as if I have nowhere to go or nothing to do. On the contrary, I have to decide which job suits me best. Each satisfies my ever-present desire to go someplace new. My need to search for Paul further exacerbates my wanderlust.

  My cell phone chimes and I quickly answer it.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi sweetie.”

  “Hi Saige.”

  “Just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  “Doing okay.” I don’t even try to hide the sadness in my tone.

  “Yeah, same here. I miss Mom and Dad.”

  “Me too.”

  “So, any job offers?”

  “Yes, several. None of them are what I really want though.”

  “What are they?”

  “One offer is from Elko, Nevada. Population: 52,000. They’re looking for an Adult Educator, mainly teaching GED preparation. It’s the largest city in one hundred and thirty miles in all directions.”

  “Huh. It would be a nice, quiet place to live,” Saige offers, trying to sound encouraging.

  Yes, but not exactly a thriving metropolis to find someone I’ve been searching for my entire life. Well, practically my entire life anyway.

  Could Paul be there?

  Okay, so I admit it. Finding Paul serves as my primary goal, the force behind everything I do. I might even be a tad obsessed.

  As far as everyone else is concerned, however, it would appear I’m completely intent on my professional life. Of course, my sisters know the truth. Ever since the Red Bird Incident, they’ve been slightly subdued about my search for Paul. Maybe they’re beginning to believe I can really find him.

  Saige, however, makes no mention of the likelihood of finding Paul in Nevada.

  “What else?” Saige asks.

  “Another offer is from Kearney, Nebraska, voted one of the top ten places to live in Nebraska. Population: 31,000. The university is looking for a Director of Student Services.”

  “That might be fun. You’d be surrounded by students somewhat close to your age.”

  How many of those students will be named Paul? Could one of them be the man I’ve been looking for? Kearney might be a good place to continue my search.

  “I don’t know,” I breathe.

  “It doesn’t sound as if you’re too thrilled. Any others?”

  “Yeah, there’s one from Milton, Georgia. Population: 36,000. A textbook company is looking for a Curriculum Developer. Milton’s schools are considered the state’s best when it comes to quality. Guess they live up to their motto, ‘The Best Quality of Life in Georgia.’”

  “That one sounds promising.”

  “I guess.”

  Could Paul be hiding out in Milton? I have to start somewhere. Yet it seems a daunting search. The world is a big place. Attempting to search “far and wide” makes it seem even bigger.

  I refuse to give up. Not until I find him. I have Miss Pearl to thank for my strong convictions.

  “Savannah, have you considered coming home?”

  “Yeah. It would be nice to be surrounded by all my nieces and nephews. I checked the job listings. A local elementary school is looking for a new principal, but . . .”

  “That’d be the perfect job for you. Have you applied?” Saige sounds excited.

  “No, I have the education, just not enough experience. Besides, I’m not sure what I want to do.”

  “You know how much all the kids would love to have you close. We all would.”

  My shoulders sag as I sigh. Why does the thought of returning to Aberdeen—my home town in Maryland— depress me?

  “Find your life, Savannah. No more watching.”

  I know why. I’d be watching my sisters live their lives. And I’d be stagnating. Always searching, never finding. Witnessing my sisters’ lives is often painful because they have what I long for.
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br />   Husband. Family. Children.

  I’m twenty-six and hardly an old maid. But my sisters had all married by the age of twenty-four. They were mothers by the age of twenty-five. Here I sit, twenty-six, and not a prospect in sight.

  I must find Paul. I must.

  I grew up in Aberdeen. If Paul was there, I would’ve found him by now.

  Hence, returning to Aberdeen would be a waste of time. Finding Paul is the motivation in my life. Returning to Aberdeen would be equivalent to giving up.

  “You know what I think?” Saige asks.

  The question is rhetorical, of course. Saige will tell me what she thinks, no matter what. For conversation purposes, I say, “What?”

  “I think you should do what makes you happy, Savannah, and not worry about anything else.”

  Wise advice. Except I don’t know what will make me happy. Besides finding Paul, that is. Without Paul I’m like a ship lost at sea, with no direction and no purpose. Finding him consumes my every waking thought.

  Then I voice what has been in the back of my mind lately, a thought I hadn’t really addressed until now. “Would it be wrong if I just want to teach elementary aged children?”

  “After all that education?”

  “I know.” Truthfully, I’d continued with my education because I didn’t know what else to do with my life. I’d changed majors several times, trying to find that one elusive thing that would make me happy.

  Saige suddenly changes her tune. “You know what, Savannah, if that’s what you want to do, then do it. You need the teaching experience anyway. It’ll look good on your résumé as you move up in your field.”

  Because home and hearth are not in my future. A good job is my only prospect. Ouch.

  Saige doesn’t really mean it that way. But that’s the message I receive. Is a good job all I have to look forward to in life? Surely there’s more. A job doesn’t keep you warm at night. A job doesn’t fill your home with love and laughter.

  “You’ve always been comfortable around children,” Saige adds. “It’s the only time I see you act the same way you act at home. You’re in your comfort zone and you lose your shyness.”