One last check on the windows and locks and Brad headed to his truck for his next appointment. Teddy Gordon was a warm-up for this upcoming meeting. And all bets were off when it came to him retaining the upper hand.
Two energy drinks and a three-car fender bender that extended his drive past the usual twenty-minute commute, Brad finally entered his mother’s office.
Nothing had changed. The air was starched. The furniture stiff and formal. The chairs too delicate. The vanilla candles flickered on the mantel. Everything was as it should be in his mother’s domain.
But for the first time, he could breathe inside the space. He didn’t want to race outside to the patio and inhale a few cleansing breaths.
He strolled behind his mother’s desk and studied the framed pictures lined up in perfect symmetry. But that’s where the staging ended. The largest photo contained the staid family portraits. But the smaller frames captured candid moments: an action shot of him on the rugby field, Drew passing on the forty-yard line, cotton candy–stained smiles from the state fair and the brothers asleep on the dog beds with the greyhounds.
He’d only ever glared at that fake family portrait and never looked closer. Never approached his mother’s desk or walked behind it. When had he started seeing his mother as only a politician?
He turned around and noticed several pens with chewed caps like the ones inside his own desk drawer and a dozen or so candy wrappers in the trash. A ceramic bowl filled with hard caramel candies sat next to her monitor.
The candy surprised Brad. He’d never known his mother to indulge her sweet tooth. But the particular candy dish stunned him. He picked up the dish and studied the muddy-brown-and-green-glazed bowl. His mother and Evie walked into the office. “Did I make this?”
“Discovered her secret stash, I see.” Evie’s laughter filled the room.
His mother stepped up to him and eyed the candy as if counting to see if he took one or two. “Third-grade art class. A duck bowl you gave me for Mother’s Day.”
Brad lifted the bowl higher. He’d like to think he possessed a little more talent, even in grade school. “Duck bowl?”
“It’s shaped just like a duck.” His mother smiled. “Can’t you see it?”
“It looks like a rotten potato.” He tried to frown, but failed as he was too absurdly pleased his mother had kept his artwork after all these years and chose to hide her favorite candy inside. Not that he was sentimental. Or at least he hadn’t been until a certain pet-shop owner invaded his life. “Are you sure Drew didn’t make this?”
His mother leaned around him and tapped a flat panel on one of her built-in shelves. The panel swung open. He’d never known that was a door. So many hidden secrets that he’d never paid attention to until today. He peeked over her shoulder and felt his eyebrows stretch into his hairline. It was her personal curio cabinet filled with child-drawn artwork, more ceramics and what looked to be stick art. She chose a piece and shut the door before he could get a good look. She placed the ceramic piece on her open palm. “Your brother created this.”
Evie leaned over his shoulder. “I remember that one. We passed it around at bruncheon one morning. Adorable.”
Brad frowned at the thin green ceramic that extended from his mother’s palm to the tips of her fingers. Clearly, his brother lacked an artist’s DNA, too. “What is it?”
Evie nudged his arm with her elbow. “That’s the fun. No one knows.”
“It depends on your mood and imagination.” His mother shrugged, a grin spreading across her face. “Whatever it is, it always makes me smile, then and now.” She covered it with her other hand as if she was protecting a priceless artwork from the elements, and returned it to her secret curio cabinet. Taking the candy dish from him, she shooed him out from behind her desk. “We’ll sit by the fireplace. I’ve been behind this desk too much lately. And you didn’t drive out here to discuss childhood memories.”
Brad shifted in the squat antique chair, tried stretching out one leg for balance. The fragile chair seemed even more narrow, or perhaps his sudden unease took up too much space. “It’s about the boat.”
Evie and his mother shared a look before his mother raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ve decided on a date to set sail, then?”
“Not exactly.” He glanced at Evie, but she remained quiet and attentive beside his mother, not even offering a smile of encouragement. “Evie called me earlier this week to tell me about her plans to relocate to the city.” He knew his mother was already aware of the details. The women had been best friends for too long and Evie would’ve sought Nancy Harrington’s advice before making any kind of big decision such as this.
“Richard always wanted to move into the city,” his mother said. “Now Evie gets to do things on her terms. Her way.”
“And I want to help,” he said.
“I’d expect nothing less.” His mother touched Evie’s arm. “There’s a lot to be done and Evie cannot be expected to handle it without us.”
Brad leaned forward, held his mother’s gaze and considered grabbing her hand to make sure she heard him. “I want to do more than move plants in my pickup truck. I want to invest.”
His mother looked at Evie. “You never mentioned this part.”
“It wasn’t my part to tell,” Evie said. “But I support his decision.”
His mother turned to him. “How am I involved in this?” she asked.
Brad gripped the armrests and ripped off the proverbial Band-Aid. “I want you and dad to buy the boat from me.”
“You want us to buy the Freedom Seeker?” Surprise and confusion pulled her eyebrows together before she composed herself. “What would we do with it?”
“Sail away on it when you retire at the end of your term,” he said. “Use it to take Dad around the world. Spend time on it with Dad alone. Just the two of you. You don’t even need to leave the dock.”
“And you’ll do what?” His mother studied him, her gaze probing for an angle and coming up empty.
“Use the funds to invest in Evie’s venture in the city.” And if all went as Evie planned, he’d invest in his new life. Not the one spent alone on the open ocean, but the one he hadn’t known he’d needed until he lost it at a dog gala five nights ago.
“You have other savings.” His mother continued to search his face.
“Nothing that I can easily access. I used most of my savings on the boat’s restoration.” And the money needed to come from the boat. He needed to make this choice to prove himself. To prove he was serious about his commitment. To prove he didn’t want to run. That he was ready to give up one dream for the reality of a new one.
His mother walked to her desk, picked up her candy bowl and returned to her chair. “When do you need to know?”
She offered a candy to Evie as if in celebration, and he sensed victory. But he had to make certain. Too much depended on her decision. He launched his final shot. “As soon as possible. Otherwise, I have to look for another buyer. But since it was Grandfather’s boat, I thought it might be nice to keep it in the family.”
His mother’s hand paused inside the candy dish, just a second, just a small flinch. He’d hit his mark.
She recovered quickly, unwrapping a candy as if it were diamonds, not caramel. “Have you spoken to your father?”
“Not yet. He’ll defer to you since it was your dad’s boat.” Brad rose and checked his phone, leaned down to kiss his mother’s cheek, then Evie’s. “I have a meeting at the office. I’ll call you later.”
Brad stepped into the hallway, but didn’t close the door.
His mother’s voice carried into the hallway. “My son isn’t leaving.”
Brad smiled and popped the candy he’d swiped from his mother’s hand into his mouth. Surprise tinged her slow words.
Evie chortled. “It doesn’t
appear so.”
“Our family will stay together,” his mother added.
Her voice crinkled like one of her candy wrappers and Brad rubbed at his chest. He understood the importance of staying together. He understood the strength that came from belonging.
“It’s what we wanted.” Evie’s voice soothed.
Brad exhaled, all too grateful that Evie belonged in his family, too.
“And we’ve wanted it to grow for some time now.” Again that crinkled catch laced his mother’s voice.
“If he doesn’t mess this up, that just might happen.”
The grim warning in Evie’s tone almost had Brad choking on the hard candy in his mouth.
“Do you think he needs our help?” His mother’s soft laugh was muffled as if she spoke behind her hand or a tissue.
“Most definitely,” Evie said. “But he’ll have to do this one thing all on his own.”
The confidence in Evie’s voice restored his smile and his determination as Brad exited the front door, taking his family’s support with him. He’d have to do this next thing on his own.
But for the first time in too long, he saw more than shadows and darkness. For the first time in too long, he muted his inner cynic. For the first time in too long, he listened to his heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ONE WEEK. SEVEN DAYS. One hundred and sixty-eight hours. That was all it took to dismantle Sophie’s business. Her life. And her heart. She’d vowed not to live in the past. She’d vowed to keep her focus on the future. She’d vowed to keep moving forward, even if it was only a small shuffle at a time.
Unfortunately, she could roller-skate through the storefront now. The three-day flash sale with bottomed-out prices had cleared off every shelf. The only remaining inventory—four plush dog toys, a handful of cat balls with bells, one petite navy dog leash, one extralarge heavy-duty pink leash and a pair of betta fish.
Even the old, dented metal shelves bowed without any product. Without any purpose. Without anything to hold.
Sophie wrapped her arms around Erin and Troy, holding on to the group hug longer than necessary. She wouldn’t apologize for that. These two meant the world to her. “I’m really sorry we have to close down.”
“I’m really going to miss working here.” Erin wiped her eyes with her sweatshirt sleeve.
“If you open a new place, you’ll call us?” Troy asked. “You promised, remember?”
“You’ll be the first on my list.” Sophie pressed her lips together and swallowed past the emotion caught in her throat.
“Are you sure we can’t help anymore?” Troy remained in the doorway to the kennel area as if ready to hold up the archway if Sophie asked.
“You’ve done more than enough.” Sophie piled the unwanted inventory into her laundry basket and considered climbing inside herself. “Handling all those adoptions the last few days while I searched for apartments.” And filled out job applications. Over a dozen applications for receptionist or cashier or bag girl. Anything to make the rent and give Ella a home.
“We still have two more weeks here.” Erin kicked the edge of the counter with her running shoe.
Sophie kicked herself. Regret and sadness would only defeat her will and her resolve to be positive. She’d given notice to her customers about the closure. She’d given notice to her employees. Nothing had been as bad as giving the truth to Ella and watching the child’s smile disappear.
But not permanently. Not forever. Only a night. Ella had climbed into Sophie’s bed, wrapped her thin arms around Sophie and hugged her with all the strength and hope and love she possessed. She’d hugged her until she heard Sophie’s laughter. Until she felt Sophie’s smile. Until Sophie matched her joy.
Together they’d worked everything out. Picked the families for each foster animal and even continued to laugh. The laughter kept the sadness contained. Sophie set her arm around Erin’s shoulders and guided her out from behind the counter, dragging a lightness into her tone. “You both need to go home, have dinner and study. I know Troy mentioned a psychology test tomorrow. And I thought I heard something about statistics.”
“That’s mine.” Erin groaned, but squeezed Sophie one last time before joining Troy.
Troy dropped his arm around Erin’s waist. “Let’s pick up sweet-and-sour pork on our way home. It’s your favorite.”
“Okay, but I’ll buy.” Erin pulled out her wallet while Troy dialed the takeout number. One last round of goodbye waves and the bells chimed signaling the pair’s departure.
Sophie picked up a bottle of disinfectant to clean out the kennels and to hopefully distract herself from dwelling on how few chimes the bells had left.
She peeked into the only occupied kennel. The white kitten was curled up on an extraplush pink bed, both an apology and birthday present to Ella. Sophie hadn’t been able to give the kitten up for adoption and decided she’d put a bell around its neck so Ella knew where the kitten was. At least she’d still have a bell chiming inside their apartment.
Sophie walked the length of the empty yard. As much as she’d wanted every foster to find its forever home, she liked the animals’ company. She loved having the space busy, inside and out. It was never quiet. Never empty. And she was never truly alone. Her life was full. But like the vacant kennels, she now had a void to fill. But she wasn’t useless or unnecessary.
She opened a kennel and sprayed it with disinfectant, hoping she might discover her new purpose in the polished stainless steel. Four kennels later and no enlightenment, Sophie listened to the bells chiming again. She kept her head inside the kennel and asked, “What did you guys forget?”
“It seems we’ve forgotten to have that chat.”
Sophie straightened and closed the kennel door. All of her scrubbing hadn’t revealed this encounter. She moved to look at Evelyn Davenport. “I’ve been meaning to call to set up lunch or dinner, but with the adoptions and everything...”
Evie held up her hand. “Don’t apologize. I don’t imagine there’s a book out there on the proper etiquette for this type of situation.”
“You mean, how do you apologize to the woman your own father fleeced?” Sophie crumpled up the paper towel in her fist.
“Or how do you apologize to the daughter of the man you’re responsible for putting in jail?”
Sophie set down the disinfectant bottle, tossed the paper towel and her shame in the wastebasket. “Should we have to apologize for a man we don’t and can’t control?”
Evie loosened the scarf wrapped around her neck as if she’d anticipated a cold reception but now felt too warm. “I don’t believe so, but there’s this pressure to say something.”
“You brought my father in. The other women he’d stolen from are making sure he stays in prison. Only time will tell if it’s the best or worst place for him.” Sophie hadn’t resolved her feelings for her father and accepted that the process would be a long one. But she wanted more for this woman who still meant so much to her. For this woman who’d brought so much joy into her world. Sophie washed her hands in the cold water, wishing it was as easy to make things right with Evelyn. “I wish I could give you back your money.”
“I know. And that means a lot to me.” Evie walked around the barren storage area. “Where’s Ella?”
“A sleepover with Ruthie.” Sophie dried her hands and avoided looking at the empty kennels. Only her reflection waited to greet her in the polished steel. “Ella didn’t want to be here and have to say goodbye to all the fosters.”
“I understand. I’m going to miss that creamy Persian. I hope you sent the cat to its new home with a sharpened pair of scissors and grooming instructions.”
Sophie laughed. “I might’ve suggested a dedicated pair of shears for felines only.”
Evie pulled out her car keys and studied Sophie.
“Do you have time to take a ride with me? I have something I want to show you.”
Sophie glanced around. How was it possible for the space to become any more forlorn and deserted? Yet with each goodbye, it was as if the loneliness seeped right into the cinder-block walls and concrete floor. She needed the distraction if she wanted to regain her optimism. “Let me grab my coat and keys.”
Ten minutes and a quiet cab ride later, Sophie and Evie stood across the street from the Sugar Beet Pantry. Sophie gestured to the organic café and market. “Olivia serves one of the best bowls of wild-mushroom soup in the city.”
Evie glanced around as if seeing the street for the first time. “I’ve never been inside.”
“Everything is farm to market and organic. And she sells hard-to-find spices and herbs. Anything her customers request.” Sophie smiled. Olivia and Ruthie’s support had extended beyond the night of the bash. A delivery boy had dropped off a container of wild-mushroom soup for Sophie that afternoon. “On the house,” he’d told her when she’d tried to pay. She’d tallied up her friends’ favors, and when the time came, she’d be there for her friends in return. “It’s one of my favorite places to get dinner when I stop in to visit Kay and April. Kay’s apartment is on the second floor.”
“That’s an even better surprise.” Evie clapped her hands together and pointed down the street. “What about the local bar down on the left?”
“I haven’t been inside in quite a while. I don’t have much of a nightlife these days.”
“I’ve spoken to the owner. He’s quite a handsome young man.” Evie nudged her shoulder, directing Sophie to turn around.
Sophie stared at a vacant storefront with a bay window and roll-up garage door. There were two floors on top of the storefront and from the absence of light, she assumed those were empty, too. A tree outside added shade and some greenery.
“What do you think?” Evie asked.
“I’m not sure I could afford the rent.” Disappointment washed through her, but she ignored the whisper that she needed to return to her empty store. Solutions to her apartment hunt wouldn’t be found in the stainless steel no matter how hard she scrubbed.
The Charm Offensive Page 24
