It also didn’t help that he didn’t have much in the way of art supplies other than a black permanent marker and some duct tape. He’d bought everything on Sophie’s list, but Charlotte seemed to have left most of the supplies in her cubby in the classroom. Country Times closed at five, so he couldn’t even run out and buy more supplies. Maybe he could text Sophie and get Charlotte a pass. After all, she was new, and he was completely inexperienced when it came to first grade homework.
No. On second thought, he wasn’t about to teach Charlotte the easy way out of things. If she was going to one day go out into the world, she needed to know how to survive, and right now that meant pulling an art project out of their asses.
“Okay,” he said, smacking his hands down on the kitchen table and pressing up. “We can figure this out.” He glanced at the oven that was just about preheated. He had about a dozen and a half casseroles to get through. The one plus side of small-town life was that the locals were always willing to lend a helping hand. In his particular case, that helping hand was a month supply of food as if they thought he was completely incompetent in the kitchen and he’d let his niece starve to death. If that’s what they wanted to think, he was fine by it. At least he didn’t have to figure out dinner on top of homework.
“First, we need to know, how you would describe yourself.” He met her gaze, and though she didn’t say a single word, she shrugged. A shrug he could interpret. “You don’t know how to describe yourself?” he said with humor in his tone. “But if you don’t know, then how is anyone else supposed to know?’ Another shrug. “What about I tell you how I’d describe you and you let me know if you agree.” He waited for the nod and continued. “Silly,” he said, and with a smile she shook her head no. “Dramatic.” She shook her head again. “How about a sweet, big-hearted girl?” A shy smile etched up the corner of her lips, and she nodded.
The smiles were coming a little easier now compared to earlier when she discovered her doll had gone missing. They retraced their footsteps, but with no luck. He assumed it was back at the school, but by the time they returned, the doors were locked. He hoped tomorrow it would be in the lost and found. He’d already made a point to get there early to check. If it wasn’t there… he didn’t even want to think about it. That doll was one of the few things Charlotte had left from her old life. Before the heartache and loss crept in and when she still had her mom.
If he had to, he’d post flyers around the neighborhood and maybe go down to the local paper and see if he could take out a full-page ad. Anything to keep the smile on her precious face, and to keep from being a failure at this parenting thing so quickly.
“Now that we know how to describe you, how do we translate that into art.” He tapped a finger against his chin as he scanned his kitchen, though he knew it was pointless. It’s not like she could make a project out of the stack of casseroles in the refrigerator. Too bad the locals didn’t bring him glitter, glue, and crayons. He turned back to Charlotte. “Any ideas, kid?”
She sighed, shoulder’s slumping, lip jutting down as if disappointed she didn’t have an answer for him.
“Don’t worry, Uncle Drake will figure it out.” The oven beeped, and he popped the casserole into the oven. He set the timer and mentally gave himself twenty-five minutes to come up with a game plan.
A knock at the door had Charlotte swiveling in her chair and tilting her head. “Probably someone else dropping off another casserole. I hope you like casseroles. Personally, I don’t like all my food mixed into one brick. I prefer them in their separate places on the plate, but who am I to be picky? Anyway, I’m going to get the door. You stay here and try to think of how we can create your project. I’m sure you’re much more creative than I am.”
Drake hurried to the door and pulled it open. “I hope it’s another casserole,” he said, but his words sputtered, and the joke dissolved as his eyes locked with the pretty blue of Sophie’s.
She smiled at him, and his heart tightened at how natural the gesture seemed to be for her. “No casserole,” she said. “I figured you had enough of those. But I do come bearing gifts.” She held up the yellow-haired doll, and every muscle Drake didn’t even realize was holding tension eased.
“You found her!” he exclaimed, then tossed over his shoulder, “Charlotte, come here.” He brought his gaze back to Sophie’s. “You have no idea how much this means to us. Charlotte was devastated when we couldn’t find her.”
“I’m so sorry. I should have texted you. Charlotte left it on the bench outside the school, and I knew I’d be coming by this way, so I took it with me to drop off.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m just happy she’s not missing. I was about to take out a full-page ad to find her.”
Sophie laughed, and he relished in the sound of pure joy. “You would do that for a doll.”
“If it wiped the sadness out of Charlotte’s eyes, definitely.”
Charlotte’s hand latched onto his leg and she peered around to Sophie. Sophie bent down with her radiant smile and held out Charlotte’s doll. A slight gasp came from Charlotte as she took her doll into her arms and held her tightly against her chest.
“She’s home now,” Sophie said. She stood up, her eyes instantly locking with his. “Everything okay?” Her eyebrow arched and concern darkened her blue eyes.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
She bit her lip, which he found adorable. “It’s just that your hair is a little messy.”
He quickly ran a hand over his head, but confused by her declaration, he waited for her to continue.
“It’s just that your hair is always perfect. Seriously never a piece out of place, but now it’s sticking up like you’ve been yanking and tugging at it, and I know my brother used to do that when he was frustrated.” She held her hand up. “It’s none of my business. I’m sorry.” She stepped back, but he wasn’t ready for her to go, not when she just got here.
He held his hand out to her to stop her without making contact. “No, don’t. It’s okay. To be honest, I’m having a little trouble with your homework assignment.”
Her head tilted, a strand of blonde falling across her face. She tucked the strand behind her ear, and her lip quirked. “Really? I thought it was an easy way to ease into the year. Fun even.”
“I’m sure it is for most kids whose parents are prepared with art supplies and the likes. Unfortunately, Charlotte’s school supplies are at school in her cubby, and all I have is a black permanent marker. Not exactly the arsenal needed to create an arts and crafts project.”
“You’d be surprised at what you can use that you have lying around the house.”
“Any pointers because it’s been forty-five minutes and neither of us have come up with anything other than how to describe her.”
“What’d you come up with?” Sophie asked.
“Sweet and big-hearted.”
“That’s perfect.”
“I thought so.”
“Do you have glue?” she asked, and he felt like the common answer would be yes, but he other than liquid stitches, he couldn’t remember the last time he actually used glue. “By the look on your face, I’ll go with no.” She chuckled under her breath and he wished she’d let the laugh out. “Hang on.” She held her finger up while her other hand rummaged around in her bag. She pulled out a yo-yo, a planner, a toy car, and finally a bottle of glue. “Here we are.”
“You’re like Mary Poppins,” he said. “What else do you have in there?”
“Oh, you know just this and that.” She handed him the glue.
He took it reluctantly. “I appreciate the glue, but I don’t really have anything to actually glue.”
“I find that really hard to believe.”
“Would you like to come in and see for yourself?” He motioned to the door. At first, he was joking, but as the words left his mouth, he realized how much he wanted her to stay. “And if you’re hungry, I have a casserole in the oven.”
“I don’t want to impos
e.”
“Not at all. Besides, there is no way Charlotte and I can eat a fourth of that casserole.”
“Let me guess. Terry’s chicken cordon bleu casserole.”
“Mrs. Wilkinson’s four cheese macaroni casserole.”
“Oh, that’s a good one, too.”
“You’ve had it before?” he asked, as if he should be surprised. Sophie was born and raised in Red Maple Falls. She was as much a part of the town as the town was a part of her.
She nodded. “When my dad had knee replacement surgery a few years ago, my parents had so many casseroles. Every time me or my sister stopped by, we left with one.”
“Then if you join us for dinner, I promise not to send you home with a casserole. Unless of course you want one.”
Sophie laughed, and this time she let it flow freely. “I’ve had my fill of casseroles, but I’d love to stay for dinner.”
“Great.” He stepped aside and let her in. Charlotte sat on the stairs, holding her doll and watching Sophie as she came into the house. Charlotte got to her feet and took Sophie’s hand.
“What is it, sweetie?” Sophie asked.
Charlotte didn’t say anything, just tugged Sophie’s hand and walked upstairs. Sophie turned to him as she went and he waved them on.
“You two go on. I have to check on the casserole.”
With a flash of a smile, Sophie disappeared upstairs with Charlotte and he headed into the kitchen to make sure he had something to offer Sophie to drink.
***
Sophie let Charlotte guide her down the hall of the second floor. She couldn’t help but to glance around and check out the home of Drake Stevens. She’d always imagined what the inside of his house looked like, though she was happy to say she was completely wrong. She expected stark white walls with black furniture and modern textiles. Instead, bold colors adorned the walls, navy blue in the living room that was to the right of the staircase, a pretty steel gray in the bedroom to the left. Charlotte stopped at a white door and pointed inside before walking into the room.
Sophie followed, her eyes glancing over the taupe walls and white ceiling. A few stuffed animals sat at the head of the bed, and a unicorn fleece blanket was draped over the white and tan comforter. “Is this your room?”
Charlotte nodded, then walked over to a frame picture and held it out to Sophie. Sophie took the pink frame in her hand and looked at a very young Charlotte in the arms of a beautiful young woman. Her straight brown hair hung over Charlotte as she hugged her tight. Her mouth hung open in mid-laugh. Sophie kneeled down and pointed to the picture. “Is this your mom?”
Charlotte nodded, then pointed to the doll in her arms.
“Did she give you that doll?”
Charlotte nodded again.
“I bet she was a great mom.”
A smile bloomed on Charlotte’s delicate face.
“I bet you miss her, too.” Charlotte’s smile faltered, her soft features washing over with sadness.
“You know, she’s always with you.” Sophie tapped Charlotte’s heart. “In here, and I know that wherever she is, she is looking down on you, and she is so proud of how brave you’ve been.”
Charlotte hugged her doll tighter and Sophie stood. She knew Charlotte needed her moments of grief in order to cope with the loss, but she also wanted to remind her of all the reasons she had to smile. “This is a nice room,” she said. “You should get your uncle to let you jazz it up and make it more your own.”
“That’s the plan.”
She startled at Drake’s voice, grabbing her chest. “Do you always sneak up on people?” she asked, with a joking glare tossed in his direction.
“I thought you would have heard me on the stairs.”
“No, apparently you move as if you walk on clouds.”
“Next time I’ll stomp.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Sophie looked down at the picture she still held. “Charlotte was just showing me a picture of her mom.”
Sorrow flashed in Drake’s eyes, but it quickly vanished as he took the frame into his grasp. His finger brushing ever slightly against her own.
“Your sister was beautiful. You must have good looking parents.” Sophie smacked her lips shut before she let any more words out. Heat crept up her neck as the embarrassment sunk in.
An amused smirk tugged at Drake’s mouth. “My sister looked just like our mom.”
“I was right. Good gene pool.”
His smile faded, and he placed the frame back on the end table. “Not really. They both died of cancer.”
Sophie’s eyes widened, and shame washed over her. “I didn’t mean…I was just…”
“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Anyway, the casserole is ready.”
Sophie took a page from Charlotte’s book and nodded. Charlotte, with her doll in hand, walked out of the room. Sophie followed, but Drake grabbed her hand as she went to pass him in the doorway.
Her heart stuttered, and a tiny gasp slipped from her lips. His light blue eyes darkened as their eyes locked. “I really am sorry.”
There was a hint of regret in his tone, which was ridiculous. He nothing to be sorry for. If anyone were to be sorry, it was her. “You don’t have to apologize. I wasn’t thinking. I know your sister’s death is still very fresh.”
“There are still moments when I still don’t believe it. As if it’s all a bad dream and I’m going to wake up to her texting me a picture of Charlotte and I’m relieved because I know Charlotte is better off.”
Sophie rested her hand on his chest, hoping her touch provided him with comfort in some way, even if only for a second. “You need to give yourself more credit. She’s very lucky to have you.”
“Is she? I can’t even help her with an arts and crafts project.”
“Luckily, I’m here to help with that.” She tapped his chest. “Because Drake, it’s okay not to be able to do it all yourself no matter how badly you want to or think you can.
“What’s the plan then?” he asked.
She smiled. “You’ll see.”
Chapter 8
Sophie stood in Drake’s kitchen, scanning the cabinets. “Where would the sugar be?” she asked. “And if you tell me you don’t have sugar, we’re going to have bigger problems.”
He laughed and moved to the cabinet to the left of the sink. “I have granulated, brown, or raw. What do you prefer?”
“Granulated. No, let’s go raw for a pop of color and texture.”
He arched his eyebrow at her, but didn’t question any farther. He grabbed the oversized bag of raw sugar and handed it off to her. She moved to the table and plopped it down in front of Charlotte, who was currently drawing a heart on a piece of construction paper Sophie had in her bag. Just one of the many things that got lost in her bag. She for sure would give Mary Poppins a run for her money.
Sophie glanced at Charlotte’s progress and noticed a bunch of hand drawn apples to the left of the heart. “You drew apples on the picture you made in class today, too.” Sophie had wondered if there was a deeper meaning behind the apples or if it was just something Charlotte knew how to draw. When Sophie was her age, she learned to draw a face of a dog, and after that she drew a dog’s face on everything. Even to this day she’d catch herself doodling the familiar face when she was on hold or waiting on a meeting. “Do you like apples?”
A brief flash of sadness crossed her delicate features, but quickly gave way to a warm smile. She nodded.
“Hey, you know what.” She looked at Drake. “You should take Charlotte to the apple festival this weekend. I know they have apple picking, and Terry will have a booth with her famous apple pie, and Shay will have her cupcake booth up and running. There will be pony rides and face painting.”
Charlotte’s face lit up and Sophie knew there was no way Drake would be able to tell her no. Maybe she should have mentioned it to him in private. What if he already had plans?
“I think that sounds like a lot of fun. What do
you say, Char?”
She answered with a big smile, then pointed to Sophie.
“I think that’s a good idea, too.”
“What’s that?” Sophie asked.
“You should come with us.”
“I don’t want to intrude. I made the suggestion because I think you both will really enjoy it.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding.”
“It could potentially help me.” Sophie tapped her chin.
“Help you with what?”
“I have to set up a fundraiser to raise money for new library books and tablets for the school, and I was thinking of maybe doing a carnival, but the idea seems too big to pull off.”
“I have a feeling you can figure it out.” His confidence in her was flattering.
“In the past, the people in charge always did like a bake sale or a car wash. There was little money that had to go into raising the money, but they handed it off to me because they want something different.”
“It doesn’t have to cost that much. You can use the school grounds which would be free and get the local businesses to contribute. Terry and Shay have their booths for all the local festivals, so you wouldn’t even have to build anything. You can still have your bake sale and car wash to raise money to fund the bigger things like a dunk tank.”
“I will only get a dunk tank, if you’d be a willing participant to sit above the water.”
Drake laughed. “I bet a lot of people in town would love that.”
“Why you’re well liked in the community.”
“Yes, but most of my patients don’t like when I tell them to exercise more, or to cut down on sugar or salt.”
“You’re just looking out for their best interest.”
“I know that, and I’m pretty sure they do, too.” Drake put the casserole back in the oven and straightened. “So that settles it then. You’ll come with us, and maybe inspiration will hit.” Before she could accept or decline, Drake nodded toward the sugar while he hit a button on the oven. “What are you doing with the sugar?”
Sophie spun toward Charlotte. “I’m glad you asked. You said, Charlotte is sweet and big-hearted. She is going to fill this heart in that she drew with the sugar, so it is a big, sweet, heart.” Sophie squeezed her shoulder. “Just like you.” Charlotte glanced up at her then immediately put her focus back on the paper.
Sweet on Sophie ( (A Red Maple Falls Novel, #11) Page 5
