“And?” Matthew prodded.
“I didn’t like it!”
“Why? You never said anything.”
“Matty, you and I have known each other our whole lives. We’ve been Catholic our whole lives. And then you came back with all this Buddhist stuff! What was I supposed to do with it?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head and turned away. “I’m starting to think now that was just a lot of blather . . . about stuff I’m not even close to understanding.”
Natalie gently laid Oscar in the bassinet tucked in a corner of the porch and covered him with a light blanket. “You didn’t think any of it was blather—before your dad.”
“Why does that surprise you?” he asked with a cynical laugh.
“Matty, it’s not your job to—”
“How can you say that?” he demanded. “You mean to tell me, if someone took Oscar from you, you wouldn’t want to make them pay?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Natalie turned back to gaze at her boy, sleeping safely in his basket. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to make them pay. I’m just saying it’s not my job.”
“Then whose job is it?”
“I was thinking . . . maybe it’s His,” she said, looking up.
Matthew snorted. “Yeah? Well, maybe I don’t trust Him for the job.”
“So what you’re saying is, all those ideas you came back with so passionate about—acceptance of what is, absence of judgment—all of that applies, except for when it’s too hard?”
Oscar woke and started crying for his bottle. Natalie eyed Matthew for a few moments, but he remained silent. “Gotta warm his milk,” she said softly, then she went inside.
Matthew went to the bassinet and picked up Oscar. He gently rocked him against his chest, thinking about what Natalie said. He was different when he came back. But now—how could he get that back now?
The baby began to quiet down, and Matthew cradled him in his arms so that he could see his son’s face. Oscar’s innocent eyes were wide open, his eyebrows curiously raised. As if to say, Well? What’s it gonna be?
Twenty-Eight
Sophie eyed Evie’s ice cream and sighed. It was beginning to turn runny, looking more like a puddle of green soup. She looked at her watch. Guess I probably shouldn’t have ordered until she got here. Sitting near the ice cream counter located on the second floor of the casino, she rested her chin on her hand and absently gazed at the passing hotel guests clad in swims suits as they sipped on colorful cocktails. The scent of chlorine trailed behind them.
Sophie turned just as Evie was coming up the escalator.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Evie eased into the chair across from her. “The traffic was pretty bad. There was an accident on the freeway.” Dressed for her shift as hostess at the Foundation Room atop Mandalay Bay, she was striking in her deep blue, sleeveless dress, her long locks hanging loose about her shoulders.
Sophie slid a cup of pistachio ice cream across the table. “Your favorite.”
“Thank you!” Evie’s eyes widened as she delved in and took a savory bite. “So what’s up? And sit up straight. You’re slouching again. I swear you’re going to look like Quasimodo by the time you’re fifty if you keep sitting like that.”
Sophie sighed and pulled her shoulders back. “Better?”
Evie was too preoccupied with her ice cream to check her posture.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Alone,” Sophie began. “And I figured the best way was to meet you before work.”
Evie set her cup on the table and leaned back in her chair, eyeing her sister warily. “Is this going to be about Christian?”
“Yes.”
“Here we go.” Evie waved her hand.
“It’s nothing bad.”
Evie’s lips parted. “Really.”
Sophie took a bite of her vanilla bean ice cream and let its sweetness melt in her mouth. “Christian came to speak with me.”
“He told me.” Evie withdrew in her chair, her arms folded over her chest.
“So you know what we talked about.”
“Sophie, is this going somewhere? Because if your intention is to tell me what a liar you think he is, and what a huge mistake I’m making, then this conversation is over.”
“No, that’s not it at all.” Sophie dropped her hands in her lap and met Evie’s eyes. “I actually wanted to tell you I was touched by his visit. Despite myself. He does love you. And I hope you guys can work through this.”
Evie blinked. “Who are you? And what have you done with my sister?”
Sophie raised her hands. “I deserve that. I never thought those words would come out of my mouth, but I really mean it.”
“I can’t tell you how much it means to hear you say that,” Evie said, her shoulders relaxing. She reached across the table and took Sophie’s hand, then paused a few moments, checking her emotions. “Every day I ask myself if I’m doing the right thing, if I’m just being an absolute fool.” Straightening, she shook her head and touched the corner of her eye. “I still can’t believe it. I can’t . . .”
Sophie considered maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to talk about this here, but it was already a done deal. “I know. And I’ve been super hard on you, expecting you to feel a certain way, see things a certain way.”
Evie’s expression began to soften.
“Christian made a mistake,” Sophie continued. “And I read somewhere that a good marriage is the union of two good forgivers.”
Cocking her head to the side, Evie remained silent.
Sophie fidgeted as her sister’s eyes bore into her. “What?”
“Sam has really gotten to you, hasn’t he? He’s managed to put a little mush into that stubborn resolve of yours.”
Sophie heaved a deep, contented breath.
Evie leaned forward. “I think I’m starting to get it now. This is the first time for you, the first time someone has touched your heart enough for you to question all your hard and fast rules. All of your easy answers.”
Sophie avoided her sister’s gaze and watched a little boy enjoying his ice cream cone nearby. “All right. Let’s not get carried away here.”
Evie chuckled. “It’s a good thing, sis,” she said gently. “Not always an easy thing, but a good one.”
Twenty-Nine
The end of the school year had finally arrived. For the eighth-graders, it was the last dance as middle school kids, and they were decked out like it was prom. The first year Sophie chaperoned, she was so relieved to have asked the other teachers what to wear; she had no idea it was such a fancy affair. She would have been sorely underdressed.
Sophie assumed that she and Sam would come together this year. She looked forward to an excuse to dress up and have some fun, but he apologized about having too much grading to get done before the last day.
The dance started the same way they have for the past fifty years—everyone stood around in clusters, admiring each other’s dresses and suits, but no one really dancing. However, later in the evening, it was sure to turn into a grind fest that made every adult want to avert their eyes.
Last year, one of the young teachers refused to walk across the dance floor. She feared a fourteen-year-old would mistake her for another student and start gyrating up against her.
Then there was the bathroom situation. If you wanted to get in and out without being subjected to a rotating door of sobbing girls and their drama, you’d better get to it early.
The “I will not dance” spell was finally broken when the D.J. played The Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling”. The song incited a deluge of young bodies onto the floor. Sophie’s friend, Lisa, spotted her from across the gymnasium and made her way over. “Look at you, in your little black dress! You look great!”
“Why, thank you,” Sophie said. “You’re pretty smokin’ yourself!”
“This old thing?” She feigned indifference, then laughed. “
Where’s Sam?”
“He couldn’t make it. Had too much work to do.”
“You mean to tell me he couldn’t break away for a couple of hours?” Lisa asked. Sophie shrugged.
Sophie spent the next hour or so taking pictures of the kids. She included herself in a few, which she quickly regretted. In each one, she had a double chin from trying to hold the camera out far enough. She was aiming to snap a picture of Ian when he looked past her with a knowing grin and said, “Miss Cook, I thought you said Mr. Collins wasn’t coming.”
Sam startled Sophie as he came up behind her. He was handsome as ever in a charcoal suit and white shirt. “Oh, my goodness!” She had never seen him dressed so formally. He took her breath away. “You look amazing!”
Sam placed his hand to his heart, stopping to admire her. His hazel eyes sparkled with a delight so contagious, she could have stepped inside him and remained there forever. It was the strangest feeling, wishing his heart was her own. Not figuratively, but literally. This desire to have that accepting, funny, beautiful heart, beating in her body. A yearning that was both exhilarating and painful at the same time.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to make it,” Sophie stammered.
“Yeah, but I decided I couldn’t miss the opportunity to see you dressed like this.” He stooped and kissed her cheek.
In her surprise, she hadn’t noticed when the music stopped. Everyone was staring at them, as if in anticipation, and Sophie suddenly felt uneasy. When a student handed Sam a microphone, she panicked.
“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” Sam said.
A few girls giggled, and the blood slowly drained from Sophie’s face as she began to experience a blacking out sensation.
“The students have been kind enough to let me have the floor for a couple minutes, and I just wanted to share a few words about our lovely Miss Cook.”
Sophie’s eyes were huge, bug-eyed huge, and a stiff, terrified smile was plastered across her face. No, there was no mirror, but she could feel how ridiculous she looked. What is he doing?
“The first time I saw her,” Sam continued, “she stared me down in a 7-11 because I was the only thing standing between her and a Code Red Mountain Dew. It wasn’t pretty, folks. She kinda scared me.” That got a few chuckles, and Sophie allowed herself to relax a smidge.
“The second time I saw her was in Trader Joe’s, and I was forced to rescue her from an altercation she was having with some tomatoes.”
More laughter as Sophie nervously scanned the faces in the room. “That’s actually true,” she admitted to a couple of students nearby.
“But the third time I saw her, I had the pleasure of witnessing her love of karaoke. . . .” A few boys in the crowd started howling. That’s when the intestinal distress set in. Good Lord! Was he trying to get her to sing? For the love of all that was holy. She would not be able to pull this off without the aid of vodka!
“However, I never got to hear her sing the following song, which I understand was a favorite of hers. At least that’s what Mrs. Jameson tells me.”
Lisa, otherwise known as Mrs. Jameson, stood beside Sophie with a huge grin on her face, and Sophie shot her a dirty look.
“It’s a little tune called ‘Love Will Keep Us Together’,” Sam said. And on cue, the D.J. started the music.
Sophie’s legs struggled to hold her up. Lisa slowly backed away to leave her in the spotlight as Sophie fruitlessly reached for her arm. About twenty students began dancing—a choreographed dance. They had staged a flash mob!
Once Sam began singing, if that’s what you could call it, she breathed the tiniest bit easier, realizing that maybe she wouldn’t have to participate. One by one, a few more students jumped into the performance, and when the song reached the main chorus, they joined their voices with Sam’s.
Now that it was apparent she was only to be a spectator, Sophie could fully enjoy this most thoughtful and charming gesture. God bless him, Sam’s singing was truly awful. Worse than hers, if that was even possible, but this whole thing was scoring him some serious points. She covered her mouth and giggled, aware that everyone in the place was watching her reaction. She was touched to see Ian filming the whole rendition, a memento she was sure to treasure forever.
When the performance came to an end, Sophie approached Sam, arms wide open, and planted a most appreciative kiss on his lips. “Thank you. That was incredible! And doubly thank you for not making me sing. You really had me worried there for a minute.”
Sam chuckled. “I love you, you know.”
“I love you, too.”
“Which is why. . . .” He took her hand and got down on one knee. Girls nearby squealed with excitement, and there were howls from the crowd when everyone saw what he was about to do.
“What are you doing?” Sophie whispered.
“You know exactly what I’m doing,” he said. “Sophie, I realize we haven’t known each other long, so if you’re not sure, I understand. But, it’s been long enough for me to know I want you in my life. Forever.” The squealing girls wiped their eyes as he pulled a tiny box from his pocket.
“Oh my God,” Sophie breathed.
“Will you marry me?”
The room held a collective breath, waiting for a response.
This was crazy. They hadn’t known each other long, but honestly, she could see herself with no one else. And who set the rules on how long she had to know him anyway? And if you counted their past lives, she whimsically reasoned, she had known him for quite some time. That had to count for something. Although she had lived her life as a skeptic, she would be hard-pressed to deny Sam’s significance in her life.
She nodded, still in shock that all this was happening. “Uh-huh.”
The room exploded into cheers and applause as Sam slipped the marquis-shaped stone on her finger. Then he wrapped his arms about her waist and spun her around.
“Say something about Mr. Collins!” a girl shouted, and the crowd clapped their encouragement.
“Oh!” Sophie was startled by someone shoving the microphone under her nose. She held the microphone with trembling hands as she cleared her throat. “Well . . .” She tried to calm the quiver in her voice as the room grew silent. “What can I tell you about Mr. Collins . . . Sam.”
She hated speaking in front of people, and wanted to make sure she didn’t say anything stupid, that her words were worthy of him. “Ohhh.” She sighed, placing her hand on her stomach. “I didn’t know this was coming.” Everyone laughed politely as her eyes met Sam’s.
“I am convinced,” she continued confidently, “that Sam is the kindest, most patient, and quite frankly . . . wisest person I know.”
“I paid her to say that,” Sam joked.
Sophie gave him a wry smile. “Since I met him, I think I’ve learned a lot about people . . . a lot about myself.”
She now recognized she had difficulty controlling her assessments of others. Jumping to conclusions. Assuming she knew the motives behind every human interaction. Especially when someone she loved was being hurt. However, she was beginning to accept the possibility that maybe there was a purpose behind it all, a good purpose, even behind the strife. Maybe there wasn’t. But, maybe there was.
As Sam liked to say, It’s all good. She was at least willing to consider it.
“Sam told me the reason we’re together is that he’s gray, and I’m black and white, and so we complement each other.” Even as he stood just a couple feet away, hands in his pockets, so unassuming, there was still that gentle pull she continually felt in his presence. “I’m not really the mushy, gushy type. And I know we’re not supposed to rely on anyone else to make us happy, but no one brings me more happiness than you, Sam.”
There was a united, “Awww!” from the room as Sophie sheepishly handed the microphone to someone nearby.
The music resumed. It took Sophie a few seconds to recognize “As Time Goes By”, the same version that accompanied their first time togeth
er. She swallowed hard as she looked at Sam, pulling her lips inward to contain a joyous sob.
“So you think I’m wise, huh?” he asked playfully.
Her chest heaved with emotion. “How did you get the kids to agree to Billie Holiday? And Captain and Tennille?”
Sam simply smiled as he took her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist. Together, they gently swayed to the music.
“And I do,” she admitted. “I do think you’re wise.”
“Ah, we’ll see how long that lasts,” he teased. “Most people would just tell you I’m a wise ass.”
“I can attest to the wise ass-ness as well, but I can live with that.”
“Good.” Sam kissed her softly. “You may think I’m wise, but I think I’m lucky.”
“Hmmm.” She raised an eyebrow. “You had this entire evening wrapped up in a nice little bow, didn’t you?” She thought she had been imagining things when she caught students staring at her at the start of the evening. “I’ll be interested to see if you stay this charming in the coming years.”
“Ye of little faith!” He pulled her closer, then added with a devilish grin, “You’ll see. I intend to charm the pants off you. For a lifetime.”
Sophie laughed. “You and your velvety choice of words.”
They gazed at one another in silence, basking in celebration. The joy emanating from Sam was infectious, creating a million little lightning bugs fluttering inside her chest, producing a light she could almost see.
Sam reached up to touch one of her curls, though fully absorbed in something besides her hair. It seemed as if he were miles away. She wondered if that’s how she appeared the first time they danced, when she had lost all sense of the present.
A brief awareness flickered in Sam’s face.
“Hey. . . .” Sophie said.
“Yeah?” His eyes fell back to hers.
“What just happened there? You were kind of out of it.”
“Nothing,” he answered amiably. “I was just thinking . . . If we ever have a daughter, we should name her Natalie.”
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