Summer Day Dreams

by Verity Norton

  Once in bed, Sophie had turned away from him and had softly cried herself to sleep. He wondered if she had kept her tears to herself because she did not want to talk about what was bothering her, or if she had done it for his benefit. Try as he might, he was still a failure—and disappointment—at comforting someone in despair. He knew that about himself. And he had learned to accept it. At least he was trying. It helped that he had other things to focus on—a successful practice, life in a cosmopolitan city, and now establishing a future with a woman who, with her giving and forgiving nature, would be a constant reminder that guilt was a waste of time.

  “So, what are you waiting for? I’m sitting.”

  He reached over to squeeze her hand, a gesture that was second nature to him now, and still within his comfort zone. “Okay. Here goes. All on my mother’s side. All McCulloughs. Grandparents—Evan and Eleanor. Oldest of their children is Patrick who married Lana. They have four kids—Matt, Megan, Morgan, and Mairi.”

  She quickly snatched a pen and paper from her purse and started scribbling down names.

  “Don’t worry, there won’t be a quiz until next week.”

  She glared at him, trying to determine if he was serious, quickly deciding that she was just being her usual gullible self.

  “Second born is my mother Nan who married my father Grant Jameson. He doesn’t have the McCullough name, although he did consider taking it just to simplify things. But they gave it to all the kids as a middle name. Four kids. Me, Anne, and the twins, Allie, and Aidan.”

  “I’m very impressed.”

  “Hold that thought. Next is my Uncle Nigel who married Ivy. They have three kids, Sean, Skye, and Sloan.”

  “I’m starting to see a pattern here.”

  “Smart girl, you are. Last but not least is Emily who married Palmer Burnett. They had three kids as well—Kelly, Kayleigh, and Kieran. Whew!” He let out his breath and Sophie laughed.

  “I am truly impressed. Now, want to explain the first letter of everyone’s name?”

  “Each couple selected a letter to begin all their children’s names,” Alex said, switching lanes as they merged onto Highway 101.

  “So friends and neighbors would know which kids belong to which couple?”

  “Actually, I think it was more so they could keep track of us themselves. But they’d never admit it.”

  She took that to mean one thing. All the adults had looked after all the kids while they were growing up. They treated them like their own. “They sound wonderful. And suspiciously Scottish.”

  “And Irish, Welsh, and English. Between my grandparents’ heritage, they cover the British Isles.”

  “But wait a minute. Isn’t Alexander a Greek name?”

  “Yeah, but it squeaked by because there were three Scottish kings named Alexander. Be grateful. If it hadn’t been that, it would have been Angus.”

  She laughed and looked over at him, feeling more joyful than she believed she had any right to be. “Grateful, I am. So, will I have to change my name to something that begins with an ‘A’?”

  “I don’t think that’s a requirement.”

  “But I won’t fit in. I start with ‘S.’”

  “It’s okay. You can hang out with Nigel and Ivy’s family. Their brood starts with ‘S’: Sean, Skye, and Sloan.”

  “Do you think they’ll all be there?” she asked, anxiety mixed with excitement rising in her stomach. “Will I be meeting everyone?”

  “Hopefully not all the first night,” he teased. “Actually some are away at school—the twins are on a junior year abroad in England and are staying for the summer. Others have moved away—as far as twelve miles maybe.” He reached over and took her hand and squeezed it again. “You have nothing to worry about, Sophie. They will be crazy about you. Guaranteed.”

  It didn’t matter who he brought home. The fact that she had succeeded in getting him there meant a guaranteed love-fest. He hadn’t been home since Christmas and then it was only for a two-day stay, work being his excuse to return to the comfort of the city. It wasn’t easy for him being in the country. Odd, since he’d loved it when he was a boy. He and his Cousin Matt had spent their summer days up trees or on the backs of horses or swimming and fishing in the pond that was on their property. When they were in generous moods, some of the other cousins and neighbors had been allowed to trail along after them, but a lot of the time it was just the pair of them, best friends.

  But once he’d gone off to school, everything had changed. Matt had gotten married, had two kids, and gotten divorced. Alex had found the village and countryside prosaic and boring after San Francisco. He doubted he could ever live there again. Hell, he didn’t even like visiting. But he owed it to his family and to Sophie to let them spend time together. Maybe with her along, it wouldn’t be so bad. She was good at filling in the gaps, awkward or not. And she had a way of putting him at ease. He glanced over at her as she stared ahead at the road, her face alight with anticipation, and he wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. Yes, his family would adore her. But then, who wouldn’t?

  He hadn’t felt like this in a very long time, not since . He knew exactly why he had stayed away for such long periods of time and why it took someone’s moving heaven and earth to get him home for a visit. Hopefully Cassie was away for the summer. Better yet, maybe she had moved away permanently just as he had. If not, bringing his fiancée home for a couple weeks might help give them some sort of closure. And maybe it would put an end to the guilt he had been carefully nursing all these years.

  Chapter 3

  Sophie opened her eyes and sat up. “Where are we?”

  “Great company you proved to be. We’re almost there.”

  “I’m sorry! I—I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “It’s okay. We’re just coming into Winslow.”

  “The twelve-mile town?”

  “Right. My Uncle Patrick and Aunt Lana live here. And some of my cousins, including Matt.”

  “Let’s see if I remember. Matt was your best friend? He works with his father, Patrick, who is a contractor, and his mother, Lana, is the principal of a school which is why they live there instead of further out in the country?”

  “Good memory.”

  “Is that where your parents have to go for supplies?”

  “No, there’s a village a few minutes from the ranch.”

  “A village?”

  He caught the gleam in her eyes. “Yes, very quaint and ever-so charming,” he mocked. “It has a small market, gas station, post office, a couple churches, pub, bed and breakfast, general store, hardware store—”

  “Bookstore?”

  “Small book café. But just used books.”

  Damn. He could see he was already losing her to Canden Valley Wonderland.

  “Do they decorate it all for Christmas?”

  He groaned. She was gone. “Unfortunately.”

  “Why unfortunately?”

  “Because I had to help decorate year after year.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “Not so much.”

  She couldn’t believe he was serious. She’d have given anything to grow up in his world with hay rides and horseback riding and magical Christmases . and two parents. But she wasn’t going to think about that. She would focus on Alex’s family, not hers. At least the first day they were here. But as soon as she had a chance, she was going to do something. She had made a decision. With or without her mother’s help, she was going to find her father.

  After Alex had fallen asleep last night, she had awakened and gone back out to the kitchen to talk to her mother. She was still up, staring at her computer screen.

  “Are you okay, Sophie?” her mother asked. “Did you want something? Some tiramisu maybe? I noticed you didn’t have any. It’s delicious.”

  Sophie shook her head and pulled up a chair alongside her mother’s. “I know this is a sore subject, Mother, but I need to ask you something.”

  Her mother leaned ba
ck, bracing herself for what was coming. There was only one sore subject between them—at least only one they ever talked about. “Please, Sophie. We’ve been through this. Nothing has changed. I’m still not willing to discuss—”

  “Something has changed.”

  “What?”

  “For one, I’m getting married, and I’d like to know if I have a father who might be interested in walking me down the aisle.”

  Her mother’s shoulders sagged. “The fairy tale. I’m sure we can find someone—”

  Sophie put her hand up to stop her mother. “And, I realized something last night.”

  “And what might that be?” Barbara Weldon’s posture had become rigid.

  “That some of the photographs on the first few pages of your early album replaced some other ones.”

  “What are you talking about?” her mother asked, her eyes suddenly shifting from her daughter to a spot on the wall.

  “I could see a faint outline of larger photos. You replaced them with smaller ones.”

  “So what?”

  “So, my hunch is that you destroyed the ones with my father in them.”

  Her mother laughed at her. It was one of those self-conscious laughs that convinced Sophie that she was lying or at least covering up something. “That is ridiculous. It’s that over-active, Pollyanna imagination of yours. There were no pictures of you with your father. You never even saw your father. He was long gone before you were born. He never even knew about you.”

  “Then why do I remember a man holding me in his arms? And floating on his back in the swimming pool with me against his chest? And—”

  “Enough!” Her mother was standing now, staring down at her. To put herself on even ground, Sophie stood too. “It could have been any man. The husband of a friend. A neighbor. Besides which, normal babies and toddlers do not remember things.”

  Well, then she was not normal. Because she did.

  Her mother started to leave the room, turning back for one moment. “I did the best I could raising you by myself. I thought I did a damned good job providing for you.” She motioned toward her surroundings. “I’m sorry if I failed you.”

  “You didn’t fail me. Really. It’s just—”

  “I’m only trying to protect you.”

  “But I don’t want protecting.”

  Barbara Weldon sighed and crossed her arms against her chest. The look in her eyes was cold and severe. “Sophie, for the final time, this is not a conversation I am willing to have. Ever again.” With that, she walked off and left Sophie standing alone in the stark white entryway with a ceiling so high that she felt as small as she had when she was a seven-year-old child left alone to fend for herself.

  “We’re here.” Alex’s voice jolted Sophie back to the present. “In the thriving metropolis of Canden Valley. What do you think?”

  “I love it!” Sophie peered out the window, wanting to take in every inch of this enchanting village. “Can we get out?”

  “We’ll come back here later. I just wanted to give you a glimpse before we head to the ranch.” He finished circling the village and headed out a country road.

  Twelve minutes later they were pulling up in front of a two-story Victorian farmhouse. “This is it? The house where you grew up?” She rolled down the window and inhaled the fresh country air. The scent of oak and eucalyptus filled her nostrils.

  “It is. It was my grandparents’ house for many years, but once their kids were grown, they built a smaller single-story on the property, and my mom and dad moved into this one.”

  “Incredible. So, how much property is theirs?”

  “Well, you know when we made that last right turn about eight minutes ago? That was the beginning of their property.” He knew the timing well. He’d driven it enough, either on his father’s lap, on the back of a horse, or on his bicycle, and of course, once he was old enough to drive himself. Four and a half minutes from their property to the village. Their house was towards the back of the land. That was where his grandfather had proposed to his grandmother under her favorite heritage oak tree. They had decided to build their house facing that beloved tree.

  “Does your whole family, besides the ones who live in Winslow, live on this property?”

  “No. Just my parents and grandparents. My Uncle Nigel and Aunt Ivy live on the property on the south side and—”

  “Let me guess, another aunt and uncle live on the north side?”

  “Uh, no,” he said, staring off in that all-too-familiar direction. “Another family lives there. My Aunt Emily and Uncle Palmer live in the village. They own the pub so they wanted to live walking distance.”

  Then she remembered, nodding toward the neighbors on the north. “Oh, of course. That’s where the girl-next-door lived. Cassie, right?”

  “Right.”

  Before Sophie could open the car door, a woman with short dark hair the color of Alex’s opened it for her. “They’re here!” she yelled over the sound of dogs barking in the distance. “Grant! Anne! They’re here!”

  Sophie grinned at the display of unabashed joy as the woman gathered her into her arms. No subdued greeting. No moment of hesitation. No concerns about propriety. “Welcome! Welcome!”

  “Uh, Mom.” Alex walked around the car to give her a hug. “This is Sophie.”

  Nan Jameson laughed. “I think I guessed that. Hello, dear.” She released Sophie in order to greet her son.

  Sophie studied their faces, joy bubbling up inside of her. Despite Alex’s hesitation to visit his family, it was clear that he loved his mother very much.

  Five minutes later she was inside, sipping fresh-squeezed lemonade and listening to Alex’s parents and sister, Anne, tell stories from his childhood.

  “You’re going to bore the poor girl,” Alex protested, but the gleam in Sophie’s eyes contradicted that notion.

  “Why don’t you bring in your suitcases,” Nan told him. “While we visit. Your grandparents are on their way over.”

  “And Matt?”

  “On his way. Sean too,” Grant said as he followed his son out to the car to help him.

  Once the others had arrived, Alex and Sophie’s royal welcome continued. She was anxious to get washed up and changed into a fresh outfit, but when she had a moment to catch her breath, she noticed Matt’s dusty jeans and T-shirt and Anne’s thick dark hair easing its way out of its ponytail band and the sweat pants she wore over a leotard. She quickly decided it was not necessary. No designer outfits here. She felt even more at home with that thought.

  “You okay?” Alex kissed her on the top of the head as he came up behind her.

  “Great.”

  “Matt and I are going out on the front porch for a minute. Is that okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “We won’t be long.”

  Alex’s sister, Anne, whisked her upstairs and showed her the room where they were staying. She was relieved to see that the family protocol did not dictate separate bedrooms. After looking at the posters of horses and cars, she knew it was Alex’s old room, and his parents had made few, if any, changes. She took her time studying the books on the shelves, the horseback riding and soccer trophies, the family photographs. Perhaps one thing had been changed. There were no pictures of a beautiful young neighbor girl who had been his first love, pictures she was certain must have been on display at one time. She wondered if Alex had removed them or if his family had after news of her visit.

  But she felt comfortable. She had waited a long time to come here, and she was not disappointed. Alex’s family and his home were everything she had anticipated. She wondered how people could be so loving and harbor no animosity towards one another. Of course, she’d only been here a few minutes, but she knew in her heart that was the case. She also knew that she had never felt so at home anywhere in her life as she did in Canden Valley. If only she could convince Alex that this was where they belonged. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Two weeks, she thought. She had two weeks to
work a miracle.

  “Yeah, in case you’re wondering, Cassie knows,” Matt told him. His best friend could still read his mind.

  “How?”

  “Sean told her.”

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Kind of him.”

  “We thought it was best if she heard it from one of us.”

  “Heard what? That I was coming home?”

  “That you were bringing Sophie. We figured that meant—”

  “What? I bring a girl home so the family has me walking toward the altar?”

  “Well?”

  “Okay, so we’re engaged.”

  Matt slapped him on the back and hugged him. “Damn! Congrats, cuz! How long?”

  “I asked her a couple weeks ago. She said yes.”

  “Of course she did. So, when are you telling the family?”

  “Any minute. Sophie’s wearing the ring. So, what do you think?”

  “I think it’s about time. I think you’re a lucky guy. I think she’s great. And I think the family will be relieved.”

  “Relieved?”

  “Yeah, you’re restoring hope to the McCullough family. Other than me, this is the first marriage of our generation. And you know how mine turned out.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m sorry it’s kept you from taking the leap until now.”

  “That’s not what stopped—”

  “Isn’t it?” Matt asked.

  “Maybe. Partly. But I had to meet the right girl too.”

  “And she’s right because?”

  “Because—Well, you’ve met her. She’s gorgeous. Sweet, fun, generous. She’s an amazing cook, loves everything, even cleaning the damned house! She decorates for all the office parties now, to say nothing of the ones we have at home. You should see the senior partners doting on her. Even Gerald Baxter, the old codger, lights up when he sees her. And she is so good with him. She tolerates him like no one else could. She really is incredible. Hell, I can call her at six o’clock at night and tell her we’re having company for dinner in an hour, and she doesn’t get upset. She just gets busy preparing—” He noticed the quizzical look on Matt’s face. “What?”