by Holly Jacobs
Even to himself, the thought sounded like a cop-out.
Hell.
He grabbed his hat and stood. “I’ve got to go.”
“Call me if you want to talk.” Sebastian snorted. “Though want and talk are two words that will never go together where you’re concerned. So, call me if you need to talk, or if you want someone to sit around and be quiet with you.”
Colton smacked Sebastian’s shoulder. “Thanks.” He tossed enough money to cover his not even half-eaten meal on the table and hurried out of the diner.
How did his life get to be such a mess?
* * *
SOPHIE WAS EXHAUSTED.
She’d hovered on the edge of nauseousness all day.
And she’d been nervous, too, as she toured local wineries with the Allens. She was terrified she’d say something wrong. That she’d somehow set off Tori’s anger, or annoyance....
She thought the Allens had enjoyed Geoff’s tour of the winery. Geoff had taken them all out into his vineyard and had rhapsodized over his vines as if they were his children. He had talked about pulling new growth off—called suckering—which encouraged the vines to pour all the energy into the grapes.
His enthusiasm made her think of Colton.
Who was she kidding? Everything made her think of Colton.
They had walked into the winery and the smell had almost overwhelmed Sophie. She’d remembered Colton taking her for a picnic here. They’d drunk wine, shared a lunch, and she’d started to fall in love with him as he waxed enthusiastic about his plans for the farm and vineyard.
Geoff had led them inside and taken them to the rooms behind the storefront, where giant stainless steel vats filled a large room, then on to the lab, which looked as if it could have come from a movie set. It was small, but clean and functional.
When Geoff had shown them his new bottling unit, he’d practically glowed, describing how it not only bottled the wine but labeled it, as well. He had shown them how he could use either traditional corks to stop the bottles, or go with screw-on tops. Then he had given an impassioned speech about why sometimes screw-on tops were better than corks.
Sophie had half listened to him. She’d heard the cork-versus-screw-on-top discussion before. She’d watched as bottles ran through the machine. They went in empty and came out full and labeled. Colton and Rich had been talking about buying something similar. They’d come over to Geoff’s and sought his opinions, and had returned home even more excited at the prospect. She’d listened to Colton talk enthusiastically about his visions for the winery. Having Rich as a partner meant he could see those dreams fulfilled sooner.
Everything in Valley Ridge reminded her of Colton.
Soon, she’d be reminded more intimately. She wondered what their baby would be passionate about. Farming? Wine? Maybe sports or...
She’d fantasize about the baby tonight. Now, she had other things to attend to. The Allens seemed to be enjoying the talk. And Geoff was in his glory, sharing his excitement with others.
Sophie had toured all the local wineries she worked with, and it never got old. It wasn’t so much the explanation of the processes, though that part was fascinating. Wine making was a perfect example of science combining with art. But that wasn’t it. It was the passion that the owners and vintners used when talking about their wine.
Pride mixed in with what could only be called love.
Geoff led them back to the store and hurried to help a customer.
“I’m going to buy a couple of bottles,” Sophie said to the Allens. Geoff had gone out of his way to give them the tour, and buying a few bottles was a nice way to say thank-you.
She realized that she wouldn’t be able to drink the wine for months to come. Months. Her child would be in her arms in mere months.
“Us, too,” Dom said.
She’d gotten lost that quickly in thoughts of the baby, and it took a minute to wind her way back into the conversation and realize what Dom was us-tooing about.
“I could help you decide what to buy if you’d change your mind about me drinking wine,” Tori offered.
Her parents snorted in unison, and Tori sighed as she walked over to the bench by the door and fiddled with her phone as she waited.
Sophie picked up a bottle of Riesling and put it in her basket.
Gloria followed suit. “Sophie, we wanted to be up-front with you. You know that we’ve talked to that local police officer—”
“Dylan,” she filled in again.
Gloria nodded. “He assured us you were okay. But I wanted to know about your family,” Gloria said. “I know it sounds intrusive, but if they’re going to see Tori—”
“They won’t,” Sophie said. There were many things she was confused about right now, but that wasn’t one of them. “Maybe someday, if Tori wants, she’ll look them up and meet them, but I haven’t talked to them since I was eighteen. I wrote them a letter when I graduated from college, and it was sent back, marked Return to Sender. Below my return address, there was also a note that read, ‘We have no daughter.’ I don’t want you two to think I’m unforgiving. I could forgive them forcing me to give up Tori, if they asked me to. If they felt the least bit guilty about it. Heck, if they could tell me they felt they did what they had to for my own good. But my feelings, and certainly Tori’s, never mattered to them. For them, public perception was everything. And a pregnant teenage daughter would certainly have hurt their image. And I think they found it almost easier when I left.”
In her mind’s eye, she could almost see her parents, over cocktails, telling some new friend about their ungrateful daughter. How they had to write her off to avoid any more pain or embarrassment. And that unknown friend probably nodded and sympathized and continued to sip the cocktail.
She moved to the shelf of red wines and picked a nice table wine she’d tried before. As she put it in her basket, Gloria patted her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“I can’t say I’m over it, but I’ve adjusted my reality to the fact that my parents are what they are. I can’t change them. I can’t make them see that family means more than public perceptions. What matters most to me is Tori. If you tell me that you think seeing me isn’t in her best interest, I’d understand and accept that.”
“You might, but she wouldn’t.” Dom smiled. “Tori doesn’t want to know things—she needs to. She needs to understand. Normally, that need to understand is mainly focused on mechanical things. I can’t tell you how many electronics in the house have been taken apart.”
“But she always puts them back together,” Gloria assured her. “Of course, not always as quickly as she took them apart.”
“The toaster,” they both said in unison.
Sophie waited, hoping that they’d share the story. Hungry for whatever bits of her daughter’s life they’d share.
Dom seemed to sense her need and said, “She took it apart when she was six. It wasn’t functional again for weeks. Not a problem for me.”
“What he’s not saying is he’s pretty adaptable. Me? I’m a creature of habit and my habit includes toast for breakfast.” They laughed over what was an apparent favorite family story, and Sophie waited to feel jealous that she hadn’t shared those moments with her daughter. There was a hint of that, but mainly there was a warm glow that she had a chance to hear the stories now and a chance to know her daughter.
They discussed Tori’s job at the library and the house rules that the Allens followed, which were actually few and far between. They didn’t have actual curfews but, rather, worked on a case-by-case basis. If Tori planned on being home at a certain time and couldn’t make it, she needed to call. If you make a mess, you clean up the mess....
Sophie nodded, agreed and realized that those many years ago when she had looked through the prospective parents, she’d followed her heart, and her heart hadn’t led her wrong.
Dom and Gloria loved Tori, and they’d raised her with love and sensible rules. They gave her freedom where they could—hence he
r blue-hair experiment—but they also gave her guidelines, boundaries and structure.
But mainly they gave her love.
That’s all Sophie had ever wanted for her daughter.
As they left the winery, Sophie was pretty sure she’d have allies in the Allens when it came to the baby. Next week, she’d tell them she was pregnant and ask their opinion about how to handle the news with Tori. But, for this one week, she wanted to concentrate on Tori. On maybe finding a story or two of their own.
CHAPTER SIX
COLTON WALKED DOWN Park Street. This was the last place he wanted to be on Sunday afternoon, but his parents and sister, Misty, had come to Valley Ridge for the Fourth of July celebration.
“...and it looks so patriotic,” Misty prattled with excitement. “Sophie and Ray did a great job.” She went silent.
Colton realized no one had mentioned Sophie since his family had gotten in from Fredonia. “They did,” he said, and shot his little sister a smile.
Flag buntings hung out all the shop windows, while the actual flags streamed from the streetlights. The streets were lined with cars, as people parked and headed toward the school grounds.
“So, we’re going to meet the boys?” his mother asked. To her, Sebastian and Finn would always be the boys.
“Yes. If we can find them.” He’d never seen so many people at one time on Valley Ridge’s main street.
“Ray and Sophie put out a huge promotion in the region. It seems to be working.” There, he’d mentioned her name. Maybe that would ease some of his family’s awkwardness.
They strolled by the Quarters as Sophie and the Allens walked out.
His parents and Misty looked at him, so he forced a smile and said, “Sophie.”
“Colton.”
He extended his hand to Sophie’s daughter’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Allen, I’m Colton McCray.”
“He’s the guy Sophie was going to marry,” Tori said as she glared at him.
He ignored the teen’s palpable animosity and introduced his family. “My parents, Helen and Al, and this is my little sister, Misty.”
“Not so little anymore. I’ll be a senior next year,” Misty assured him with a laugh, which probably sounded fine to everyone else present, except for him and his parents. Again, he gave his little sister points for trying.
“Are you joining us for lunch?” Mrs. Allen asked.
“No, not today,” Colton said. He turned to Sophie. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, just fine,” she said, shooting him dagger looks that said, Don’t mention the baby, whatever you do.
So she hadn’t told Tori and her parents? Yeah, color him shocked at the idea that Sophie held on to secrets.
He gave the slightest tip of his head and stepped away, hoping his family would take the hint and leave.
“Everything looks wonderful, Sophie,” his mom said. “Colton told us you and Ray Keith put this all together.”
“I helped put together some of the promotions. Ray was the one who organized the town, and he found the money somewhere for all the buntings and flags. And wait until you see the fireworks display tonight. It rivals Buffalo’s and Erie’s. We...” Sophie’s words tripped over themselves as she babbled along about the celebration.
That in itself was not unusual. Sophie was generally excited about...well, everything. She found happiness in the smallest things. He remembered one day as they walked down Park Street, she’d stopped at a crack in the sidewalk and pulled up a small weed. He must have shot her a questioning look. She’d laughed and told him, “It’s pineapple weed.” She’d squeezed the small firm yellow flower and thrust it under his nose. It had smelled like pineapple. She’d told him, “Life’s like that. If you don’t watch where you’re going you might step on something sweet.” She’d sniffed that stupid weed the rest of the way home, smiling as she did it.
That smile over the weed was much more genuine than the one she wore now.
He realized Sophie’s torrential flow of words had finally ebbed. “Well, it’s awesome,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll see you at the school.”
“I’m sure you will.” To anyone else listening, Sophie sounded pleased at the prospect, but Colton didn’t miss the fact that she wasn’t pleased at all. But she was being friendly. Oh, so freaking friendly.
His parents and Misty finally started back and Colton followed. He turned to take one more look at Sophie, who stood with her hands folded protectively over her stomach.
Over their baby.
The baby she hadn’t told anyone about yet.
He sighed.
On the surface, Sophie seemed to be an open book. She wore her emotions on her sleeve. He’d never seen anyone who could cry over a diaper commercial and then roar with laughter over some dog chasing after treats, but that was Sophie.
Now for the first time he could see something more was hidden beneath her easy laughter. There was a pain there. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that some of that pain had to come from her parents...the parents she allowed him to think were dead. The parents that hadn’t come or, rather, hadn’t been invited, to their wedding.
He’d found out that Sophie had lied to him, and thought that was that. She wasn’t who she said she was.
But maybe he should have wondered why she was happy to allow him to think her parents were dead. And he definitely should have asked why she hadn’t told him she had a daughter.
He’d simply been so angry. Embarrassed in front of the entire town.
He should have waited longer to go see her.
Or maybe he should have seen her sooner.
Hell, maybe he should never have let her leave without him at all. Maybe he should have gone with her and Tori to her house and found out exactly what was going on.
Things he could have done, and maybe should have done, kept occurring to him.
“Colton?” was all his mom said.
“I’m fine, Mom. Let’s go check out the food booths at the school.”
She nodded, and his family went back to talking about how great the town looked and how much Valley Ridge had changed since they bought the farm in Fredonia, when his father had gotten the job at the college there.
Colton glanced behind him, hoping for one more glimpse of Sophie, but she was lost in the crowd.
Should have. Could have.
Of all the things he could have, should have done, the one that stood out the most was the fact he should have made Sophie explain.
And when she did, he definitely should have listened.
* * *
SOPHIE WATCHED COLTON’S family disappear in the crowd and realized she was practically gripping her stomach. She forced herself to stop and thrust her hands into her capris’ pockets. “Shall we?” she asked.
“He’s a jerk,” Tori muttered.
“Pardon?” Sophie asked.
“Colton. The guy you almost married, before I objected and ruined it. He’s a jerk. I mean, I know it’s my fault, but if he wasn’t a jerk, he wouldn’t leave you just because you had a kid years ago, when you were practically a kid yourself.”
Sophie shot a look at the Allens, silently asking their permission to handle this, and Gloria gave the merest nod granting it.
“Tori, please listen to me. Nothing that happened, or will happen, between Colton and me is your fault. Not at all. We had problems in our relationship, and those simply became more than the relationship could handle. It had nothing to do—has nothing to do—with you.”
Tori shrugged but didn’t seem convinced. “You didn’t tell him about me and when he found out, he left you.”
“No, I didn’t tell him about you and about a lot of other things. I had my reasons, but I still hurt him.”
Gloria stepped in. “It’s like how my not telling you that you were adopted hurt you. When you withhold big secrets like that, the other person wonders what else you’re hiding. Well, between me and you, that was it. You were adopted and I didn’t tell you
because...” She took a deep breath. “Because I was afraid.”
Tori didn’t look convinced. “Afraid of what?”
“Afraid of losing you.”
“Never,” Tori whispered as she hugged her mother.
Sophie felt herself tear up as she watched them. She hoped to build a relationship with Tori, but she’d never have one like this.
She brushed away her tears. For years, she’d allowed herself to own her emotions. She cried when she was moved to tears. She laughed when things amused her. She looked for joy wherever she could find it.
But she no longer had that luxury.
Her parents had taught her the value of a social face. She hadn’t worn hers in years, but it was like riding a bike. She hadn’t forgotten how.
She’d faced Colton twice now, and both times she’d hidden away her heart.
“Lead on, McGuff,” Dom said.
“It’s lay, not lead, and Macduff, not McGuff!” Gloria corrected him with a laugh.
“Dad likes to misquote stuff all the time. It drives Mom nuts,” Tori said conspiratorially.
“Oh, this lady’s imagination is vapid,” Dom said as they walked down the street.
“Rapid, not vapid,” Gloria groused with mock ferocity.
“Dad’s bringing out the big guns when he quotes Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.”
For the next couple of hours, Sophie and the Allens wandered through the holiday festivities. They bought kettle corn and ice cream, and prim-and-polished Gloria bought a funky set of beach glass earrings, which seemed out of character, but Tori told Sophie that Gloria had a soft spot for dangly and shiny things. They passed by Dr. Marshall, who gave Sophie a sympathetic look as he waved at them.
Dom got into a long discussion at one of the farmer’s stands about organic gardening and where to buy ladybugs.
“You buy ladybugs?” Sophie whispered to Tori.
Tori nodded. “They’re an organic way of controlling pests.”
Mr. Tuznik, the former mayor and current crossing guard, approached their group and scooped Sophie into a hug, then whispered, “It will all work out.”
