by T. I. Lowe
“That’s not for public knowledge, so it stays just between us,” Opal said, tapping the table to make sure Sophia understood.
Sophia nodded her head and waved to get the waitress’s attention without responding to her friend. Really, what was there to say to all that? Nothing was what. “Can I get the check, please?”
The young waitress smiled warmly. “Mr. Jasper said it’s on him today.”
Sophia scoffed. “Your boss says it’s on him every day.”
“You know how he is. Best thing to do is just go with it.” She waved off Sophia’s protests and hurried on to another table. Josie’s dad had been a second daddy to each Sand Queen and had fed them more times than one could count.
“I’m heading into work. What does the rest of the day look like for the two of you?” Opal asked, swiping the last of Sophia’s biscuit.
“I need to go grocery shopping.” Sophia packed Collin’s sippy cup into the diaper bag and settled him on her hip. The list tucked in the pocket of her baggy pants was filled with fresh everything to start at least one new step of cooking at home and laying off eating out so much. She’d taken the snooty doctor’s advice and had cut the Happy Meals down to only once a week.
“It’s a beautiful day. You two should head to my house afterward and spend the afternoon on the beach.”
“Pease, Mommy.” Collin twirled his sticky fingers in her hair.
“We’ll see, baby,” she offered, her go-to answer for not really giving an answer.
“Pease, Sophia, bring my bubby to the beach. We can sweet-talk Linc into grilling us something for supper, too.” Opal winked at Sophia before giving the toddler an exaggerated kiss and pulling another loud giggle from him. Opal specialized in that and Sophia would be willing to keep the meddling woman around for no other reason. Collin didn’t smile or laugh nearly as much as a child his age should.
Sophia’s mind was in repeat mode, worrying about Collin’s happiness all the way to the grocery store, and kept skipping back to it as she strapped Collin into the shopping-cart seat. She made silly faces while picking out fruit, danced around a display of chips, and tickled Collin’s side as they moved around the store. He’d respond but the happiness never lingered, not even making it from one aisle to the next.
As she turned into the cereal aisle, normally the one strip of shopping fun for the toddler, she really began to worry when he didn’t immediately start begging for the brightly colored boxes of pure sugar. She bent down and rested her chin on the cart handle, bringing her eye to eye with him. Studying his puffy blue eyes, the lingering effects of a long, restless night, Sophia searched for some hidden sign that he was okay. Collin curiously watched her as he crammed a finger up his nose.
Snickering, she yanked it out and asked, “What do you want, baby? You get to pick.” She tried not to think about the disapproving lecture the starchy doctor would give her for allowing Collin the cereal of his choosing.
“Daddy. I wan’ Daddy.” His little eyes lit up with hope.
“I know, baby. Daddy’s working . . . but soon, okay?”
Collin didn’t seem agreeable with her answer, his eyes glassing over as his pouty lips curved into a trembling frown. Both were warning signs of a tantrum working loose.
Sophia straightened and did the only thing a desperate mother in her situation could come up with—she clutched the cart handle firmly with both hands and took off like a streak of lightning down the cereal aisle at a breakneck speed while making race car sounds. It took a couple of turns on the grocery aisle track before the little guy let loose his own sound effects. Those pouty lips vibrated as he revved his motor, and it was pure music to her ears.
A stock boy reprimanded her when she sideswiped a tower of toilet paper, leaving an avalanche of rolls in her wake, but she had no regrets. By the time they reached the yogurt section, she was right winded, but her baby was smiling with no traces of tears in sight. Collin even picked out a healthy choice of yogurt, unbeknownst to him, but still. He was participating. For a few brief moments in the dairy aisle, Sophia felt like a normal momma doing something normal with her toddler. The haze of hurt waned, allowing her to breathe a little easier.
As Sophia began pushing the cart toward the front of the store, a small herd of children passed by while skipping around their mother’s cart. She noticed Collin looking on with a faint smile on his face.
She’d kept Collin tucked underneath her wing for close to three years, but watching him watch those children with longing, it made her realize that maybe doing so hadn’t been in his best interest. Wasn’t it normal not to want your baby to grow up too fast? she wondered. It seemed like a motherly way of thinking, but now she was realizing her intentions might have been on the selfish side.
Maybe it’s time to consider preschool, she thought as she unloaded the groceries at the cash register. She’d almost talked herself into hurrying back to the diaper aisle to grab a pack of training Pull-Ups when the little card machine made an obnoxious sound she’d never had directed to her. Squinting at the small screen, she realized it was alerting her that the debit card had been declined.
The cashier shrugged her shoulders as she tapped several keys on her register. “Try swiping it again. Sometimes the card reader has a glitch.”
Sophia did as instructed, but the little machine sent out that menacing alert tone again. “Let me try another card.” She put the debit card back and fished out a credit card. She swiped it and grabbed up the pen to sign off on the transaction, but the alert sounded again. “This makes no sense. Is your machine broken?”
“I can try it on my register.” The cashier held her hand out for the card, and Sophia handed it over quickly.
Looking around, Sophia was thankful no one was waiting in line behind her. Sure, she’d witnessed shoppers turn bright red with humiliation a time or two when their cards had been declined, but it was something she’d never experienced personally until now. “There’s no reason for my cards not to work. Surely the store system is to blame.”
“It’s still not working.” The cashier made a sympathetic face and handed the card back.
Sophia clucked her tongue, pulling on a lofty attitude even though her palms were sweating and her heart racing. “This is ridiculous. Can you get a manager?”
Several long, humiliating minutes later, after the manager tried both cards on two other registers and Sophia made a call to the bank, she sat behind the wheel of her fancy SUV in the parking lot and stared out the windshield in disbelief. There was always an abundance of money waiting to meet her needs and wants at the swipe of a card. Until now. Stunned, all she could do was sit there and tap her thumb underneath her bare ring finger.
When Collin began whining, she pulled herself together enough to drive. With no groceries to put away and no clear ideas on how to remedy that problem, she drove around aimlessly for a while until finding herself parking beside Opal and Lincoln’s beach house. A glance in the rearview mirror confirmed the little guy was sacked out, so she put the SUV in park but didn’t shut it off.
With shaky hands, she managed to pull up Ty’s number on her cell phone and hit the Call button.
“The number you have dialed is no longer in service . . .”
Sniffing back the tears, she tried it three more times before giving up.
“What have you done, Ty?” Sophia whispered while staring at the phone in disbelief.
Frozen accounts. IRS tax levy. Federal investigation. With those unfamiliar words the bank president had shared on the phone whirling through the tangles of her muddled mind, Sophia leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and tried to cry as quietly as possible.
4
So far, Sunset Cove was living up to its small coastal town charm. It was quiet and most folks kept to themselves. Most folks, that was, with the exception of a small group of old ladies. Wes had nicknamed them the beauty-shop hens. About a half dozen in total, with bouffant hair and too many questions. They’d been show
ing up randomly at his door to share covered dishes, baked goods, and servings of gossip ever since he arrived in town. It was easy to brush off the clucking the first week, but then they started dropping tidbits that included him to a certain degree along with one other person. Namely, Sophia Grace Prescott was attached to near about every conversation.
Huffing in frustration, Wes picked up his pace into a sprint while dodging beachgoers. It was Wednesday, and Doc had always closed at noon on Wednesdays. It was church night and most people seemed not to have colds and such on that particular day, according to the older doctor. Wes kept the original schedule, but he didn’t like the idle time it left on his hands, so he moved his morning run to noon on Wednesdays to help combat it. Too bad he couldn’t outrun his thoughts this particular day.
“Sophia Grace is the ex-wife of that celebrity NFL player Ty Prescott.”
“Sophia was an uppity PR consultant in North Carolina until they fired her.”
“It was all over the news about their split.”
“He cheated.”
“A nasty divorce.”
“She was photographed with numerous bruises and a busted lip earlier this year.”
Every shared snippet from the beauty-shop hens had been delivered with either a clucking of their tongues or a “bless her heart” tagged to the end. He’d not turned on a TV in years and never had time or tolerance for social media, so Wes had no idea who Ty Prescott was. Nor did he really care. And he certainly didn’t care who Sophia Prescott was either, until the rumor mill shared with him about her smear campaign on social media earlier this week. The hens claimed she was telling everyone he was a bad doctor and encouraging parents to take their children to the pediatric office over in the next town.
Wes had agreed to come to Sunset Cove when Doc assured him peace and quiet would be his neighbors, but the mouthy brunette was making that unattainable. If he couldn’t figure out a way to keep those hens at bay and Sophia’s mouth shut, he was ready to pack up and make a run for it. Problem was, he had nowhere to go.
His Apple Watch alerted him that he’d reached another mile, so he looped around to head back to the beach house. Once the house was in sight, he slowed his pace to a leisurely jog to cool down, progressing to a walk as he rounded the side of his house. Mopping the sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm, Wes came to a halt at the sight of a giant SUV haphazardly parked—half in the Coles’ driveway and half in his. Through the dark-tinted window he could make out a woman resting her head on the steering wheel. Moving closer, he caught a glimpse of a small child sleeping in his car seat in the back.
Wes had a pretty good idea of who the woman was, and he had a pretty good idea it was in his best interest to walk away. She’d not seen him, so no harm, no foul. But his mind didn’t relay the message to his hand fast enough, and before he realized it, he was gently tapping his knuckles against the driver’s window.
Sophia jumped, her head jerking up to look at him, but quickly turned away and dug around in her bag until producing those giant sunglasses. She slid on what he was beginning to realize was her shield before opening her window.
“Hello, Sophia,” he greeted quietly, not wanting to disturb Collin or startle her again.
“Hi,” she rasped, sounding more than a little addled.
Wes considered her and the situation, at a loss on what to do. Tears were rolling down her cheeks as her bottom lip trembled. Clearly she was upset about something. Too upset to be driving around, as evidenced by the mushed palm plant underneath her rear tire. But what to do? He glanced toward his house, not wanting to invite them in. Every fiber of his being screamed to run, to stay out of the woman’s business, but he remained rooted beside her car door.
“Has Collin been sleeping long?”
“No . . .” She sniffled.
“He’d be more comfortable lying down, instead of in that cramped seat.” Wes regarded his house once again and then glanced at Collin. The little guy’s head lobbed to the side at what seemed to be an uncomfortable angle. “Why don’t you bring him inside to finish out his nap?”
“Opal . . . ,” Sophia began, sounding disoriented but sober.
Wes scanned the neighbor’s driveway even though he already knew it was empty. “There’s no one home.”
“Oh . . .” Sophia’s shoulders managed to slump further as she dropped her chin.
“Maybe Opal will be home soon. You’re welcome to come inside and wait for her.” He opened Sophia’s door, hoping to encourage her to exit.
“Okay.” She slid out and slowly shuffled to the back to gather the diaper bag and then the toddler. Without saying anything, she headed up his porch and waited by the door.
Wes reached around the steering wheel to turn off the SUV and then closed the two doors Sophia had left ajar before following. He ushered her inside and led her to the first-floor guest room.
“I’ll let you get him settled,” he whispered before taking the stairs two at a time up to his room. He swapped the sweaty tee for a fresh one and washed his face and hands. Knowing he couldn’t hide in his room from whatever was going on, he went back downstairs and found Sophia sitting at the breakfast nook table.
The giant sunglasses still covered most of her face, and Wes noticed she was dressed in a shroud of baggy black. He recalled how radiant she had been at the party in that elegant floral print dress with her hair brushed in long dark waves. No doubt, the woman was a knockout, and he could just bet she was a pro at lighting up a room by flashing those vivid blue eyes. Too bad something had dimmed her. Slumped at his table, she looked so defeated that he had a feeling those abuse rumors might have actually been derived from the truth. A pang of empathy clenched his abdomen.
Clearing his throat to announce his return, Wes walked over to the fridge and retrieved a pitcher filled with water and sliced lemons. “Would you care for a glass?” He held up the pitcher.
“Okay,” Sophia answered without turning away from gazing out the bay windows. It was a tranquil view of the ocean with the sun casting a glitter on top of the water. He’d hoped she was finding some solace in it.
Wes placed a glass on the table in front of Sophia before sitting across from her. They sipped their water in silence until his glass was empty and hers halfway. His eyes slid to the clock above the mantel to check the time. Forty minutes had passed and yet she remained in her zombie state.
Sighing, he whispered, “Do you need to talk about it?”
“No,” she whispered back.
As a kite sailed by the windows, he searched for something to say, but he’d always favored silence over idle chitchat, so his lips remained clamped shut.
As he listened to the muffled hum of the ocean, Wes noticed her running her thumb along the underside of her ring finger. It was the same absentminded habit he was trying to break himself. Just last year he’d finally removed his wedding ring. The silver band once held such profound sentiment. Perhaps their story lines were different, but apparently some key points were similar.
“This entire place looks brand-new,” Sophia said out of the blue, breaking the silence and jolting Wes out of his spiraling thoughts.
“It’s what I asked Lincoln to do.” Wes scanned the room. The outdated wood-panel walls had been replaced with smooth Sheetrock painted a tasteful gray and topped off with sophisticated crown molding. The floors had been stripped of the honey-hue stain and darkened considerably. “I requested contemporary comfort, and I think he delivered.”
“He did. I like it,” she whispered, her sultry voice so incongruous with her petite body.
Wes was an average height, just under six feet, but she made him feel like a giant. One would expect a woman as tiny as Sophia to have a soft, girlish voice. And so the throaty cadence of her tone caught him off guard each time she spoke.
Staring at his glass, he murmured, “Thank you.”
“What did you name it?”
Wes glanced in her direction, only to meet his reflection in th
e giant sunglasses. He noticed his hair was going in every direction from the run and then his hasty shirt change, but he tamped down the urge to straighten it. Instead, he focused on her pouty lips. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea either, but he kept staring at them anyway. “Pardon?”
“The beach house.” She motioned around the space.
“Oh yeah. I didn’t even know that was a thing until I moved here. I kept the original name.”
“Sea Glass Castle,” Sophia answered.
“Yes.” He looked toward the mantel and pointed. “You see the sea glass filling that vase?”
“They’re beautiful,” Sophia commented.
“Lincoln Cole and his crew collected each one from all over the house while they were renovating it, so it felt right to leave the original name.”
“That’s sentimental. I’ve always wanted a beach house to name. Guess that’ll never happen now . . .” Sophia trailed off and ended their conversation on a weird vibe.
Awkward didn’t even come close to describing their situation, and Wes couldn’t quite wrap his mind around why he had allowed a practical stranger into his home. A raucous round of flatulence sounded from the guest room, reminding him of the reason. For the safety of the child.
Sophia bit her lip and stood from the table. “Little man is awake.” She hurried to the room and was back within minutes with the groggy toddler.
“Hello, Collin.” Wes gave the boy a wave.
“Hey, poo-poo man.” He rubbed his eyes and looked around. “I fursy.”
Wes arched an eyebrow, making Sophia bite her lip again. This time it didn’t quite conceal the hint of a smile. “Would you like some water?”
Sophia placed Collin on his feet and began rummaging around in the diaper bag. “Let me get his cup.” Finally the sunglasses seemed to be getting in her way, so she took them off and tossed them into the bag.
As Wes watched her, Collin waddled over and climbed into his lap. It caught him off guard at first, making his shoulders stiffen and his stomach flip, but then he relaxed and privately relished the way the little guy was trusting him. Collin squirmed and grunted and elbowed him until settling sideways and resting his head on Wes’s chest. His hand smoothed the boy’s hair as he breathed in the scent of maple syrup and baby lotion. He glanced up and noticed Sophia holding the sippy cup while watching him carefully, so he dropped his hand.
