Golden Bird - Page 130/145

It was a bright, crisp spring day. The sky was blue with big, white, fluffy clouds, and the trees were alive with new green leaves. The river was running hard from the spring runoff from the mountains, and as Sara watched the churning water, she thought she saw a fish jump, sunlight flickering on its scales.

She was sitting on a wooden swing, facing the river, in the playground where she had played as a child. She always seemed to come here when she was troubled. She didn’t see David come up behind her, and jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Hey little girl, need a push?”

“Oh, David, you startled me. But since you asked, why not?”

He obliged and gave her a few pushes, then sat down in the swing next to her. He glanced at her sideways.

“Have you heard anything from him?”

Sara shook her head, not taking her eyes from the river, and answered simply, “No.”

“Look Sara, I know it’s none of my business, but don’t you think you should try to contact him? He has a right to know.”

“You’re right, David, it’s none of your business.” she said sharply, hopping off the swing.

David waited for the apology he knew would come. She tended to be short with everyone now and then since the pregnancy, which was just beginning to show. And as he predicted, she turned, her eyes pleading forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, David. You’ve been so good to me through all this. And I’ve treated you so badly. I don’t know why you put up with it, or me.”

David stood also and embraced her gently, brotherly.

“Because I love you.” It was true—he would never stop loving her—though he had accepted that she would never return that love. They had become the best of friends, but they had always been that, only now they were no longer lovers too.

“I know you do, David. I love you too.” And it was true -it had always been true—only now she could no longer pretend it could ever be more than platonic. What she had felt with Rashid had shown her that. But she loved David and cherished his friendship. He understood.

She stepped back at him, wiping her nose on a crumpled Kleenex she had fished from the pocket of her old windbreaker that would soon be too small to fit around her expanding belly.