by Holly Jacobs
“I love driving on I-90,” Sophie said. “There are so many trees, and if you keep an eye to the north, you get glimpses of Lake Erie. I can’t imagine living somewhere without the water.”
“Me, too,” Tori said. “After I found you, I realized we might have lived with Pennsylvania in between our states, but we both lived by Lake Erie. My whole life, you were there, on the lake, missing me, and I didn’t even know you existed. I’m still mad at Mom about that. Sometimes I’m so mad about...everything. And other times I’m happy that Mom and Dad are my parents and I get to know you. I’m a mess.”
Colton glanced over at Sophie, who had tears in her eyes, so he said to Tori, “I get that. I think all kids are a bit of a mess. I spent my teen years wanting to be nothing like my dad. He had cows. Not a ton, but a small herd of milk cows, and every morning my chore was milking with him before I went to school. The farm was what our world revolved around. I couldn’t stay up late because I was up so early milking. We couldn’t go on vacations like normal people, because summer was so busy on the farm and during the rest of the year there was school.
“I swore I was going to go to college, get a degree and have a job that didn’t start at four-thirty every morning. I was leaving the farm and never going back.” Colton remembered those feelings. He’d wanted to break away. To become his own man.
“What happened?” Tori asked.
“I went to college a business major, and ended up with a minor in business and a major in agricultural science. My mom and dad owned their farm in Fredonia, so when Grandpa was ready to retire, I bought his place.” He felt rather proud that he’d steered the conversation into an area that seemed to be less fraught with teen angst.
An hour later, they were driving through vacation homes on the lake and down a long hill to a sprawling farm.
He spotted Dom and Gloria’s car as they pulled down the long driveway. They came out onto the front porch with another, older couple.
“Nana, Papa,” Tori called as she sprinted from the car the moment he had it in Park.
She was still hugging everyone when he got to the porch with Sophie.
“Colton and Sophie, these are my parents, Marv and Sunny Allen. Mom, Dad, this is Colton McCray, our farming friend I was telling you about, and this is our Sophie,” Dom introduced.
Colton glanced at Sophie as Dom introduced her as our Sophie, and she was glowing at the designation. The whole Allen family had taken possession of her. He wondered if she even realized how completely she’d been adopted.
Colton had warned himself to give Sophie her space. He was spending a day with her, and he didn’t want to spook her. So, he turned his attention to Dom’s parents. Marv Allen didn’t look like a man who’d once lived on a commune. He wore a well-worn pair of overalls and a tan work shirt. His hair was steel-gray and as short as Colton’s own hair. His wife, Sunny, on the other hand, looked as if she’d never really left the commune. She wore a long, rainbow-colored skirt with a blousy top and a lot of beads. Her snow-white hair was in a thick braid down her back.
“Come in,” she said. “Come inside. I’ll give you a quick tour and you can have some refreshments before Marv drags you out to the fields.”
“The only dragging there will be will come from Colton if we take too long inside,” Sophie said with laughter. For a moment, it felt as if the problems they were having didn’t exist. She teased him as she’d always teased him.
They went inside to the spartan yet homey house. The main decorative features were paintings. A huge painting of the farmhouse hung over the old fireplace. “That’s Freedom’s work.”
Dom sighed and his mother corrected herself. “Dom.”
A smaller picture hung next to the fireplace. The painting seemed out of place. It was abstract at best. “And that’s our Tori’s. She was only five years old when she did this portrait of me and Marv.”
After some experimenting, Colton discovered that if he squinted and turned his head to the right, he could almost make out that the painting was supposed to be people.
“That’s our Tori, a chip off her father’s block,” Marv said, hugging the girl to him. And then as if he realized what he’d said, he turned to Sophie. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“That’s all right, Marv,” Sophie assured him. “I knew what you meant. And I also know how lucky Tori is.”
They had fresh cinnamon rolls and coffee, then Colton headed out to the field with Marv and Dom. He listened as Marv talked about how he’d come to start his CSA. He’d had a more traditional farm at first, then Sunny had opened up a small roadside stand one fall. It was on the honor system. She put out fresh produce in the morning, and a list of prices, then people took what they wanted and left the money. “There was always a bit more there than there should have been. If people didn’t have the exact change, they rounded up. I found I made good money there. Then I went to a conference and talked to a farmer who’d started a thirty-member CSA. Community-supported agriculture was the wave of the future, he assured us as he raved about it. I talked to Sunny, and that first year we had ten members. Now, we have fifty. In the summer, I give internships to kids majoring in agricultural fields, and I guest lecture on the subject across the country....”
Walking the diverse fields and listening to Marv wax poetic about community-supported agriculture, Colton felt as if he had a private class on running a CSA. Marv’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Colton couldn’t help but wonder how viable a venture like that would be in Valley Ridge. He knew there were a couple CSAs in Ripley. Probably more in the region. He’d never really researched doing something like that. But if he diversified his crops, and added in some of each year’s wine...
He couldn’t wait to talk to Sophie about it on the way home.
And he lost the thread of Marv’s conversation for a moment as he realized that, as always, his first thought was to share something with Sophie. And it wasn’t only that she was a great sounding board or generally had good advice—it’s that he wanted to share everything with her.
That’s what had hurt the most: she hadn’t felt the same.
He forced himself back into the present as Marv led them through a small plot of eggplant. “The trick is getting enough of a particular crop in to satisfy your members, and not so much that you overwhelm them. I have a number of members who buy full shares, and one who buys double shares and preserves the bulk of what I send over. Most of my members buy half shares. That’s enough to keep them stocked in fresh produce throughout the growing season. Sunny started sending along recipes for some of our not-so-common vegetables. We’re having a bumper crop of rutabaga this year, but that’s not something most people eat anymore, so she’s got a bunch of recipes lined up for when they start going in the baskets....”
They got back to the farmhouse in time for lunch.
Sunny had a huge tomato salad and a grilled eggplant salad, along with egg-salad sandwiches. “Nana has chickens, Colton. Have you seen them?” Tori asked around a mouthful of sandwich.
He glanced at Sophie. He remembered all her comments about her two future hens, Thelma and Louise. She’d even found a portable chicken coop she wanted. He told her it was a farm; the chickens didn’t need be cooped all day. She’d looked horrified, and said she wasn’t afraid of Thelma and Louise escaping as much as them getting hit by a car, or injured by a dog or some of the more-and-more-plentiful foxes in the region.
He’d ordered the chicken coop that day from Jerry at the Farm and House Supplies. It was being made by an Amish craftsman in Crawford County and was supposed to be in by August. Because it was a special order, he hadn’t been able to cancel it after the wedding, and now he didn’t want to cancel it. He wanted Sophie to move to the farm and have her chickens and her flagstone patio.
He wanted to see their child grow up there.
He could almost imagine her and a toddler, spreading feed for the chickens, collecting eggs together.
“What?” she whispered,
as if she could read his mind.
It wouldn’t have surprised him if she could. Sophie had always known what he meant without his having to explain. Why couldn’t she see what he felt now?
“What?” she asked again.
He shrugged, not sure how to make her understand how much he missed her. How sorry he was. How much he loved her.
After lunch, Sunny and Gloria shooed them all outside while they cleaned up the dishes.
Marv and Dom wouldn’t be shooed and stayed behind to help.
Tori had disappeared and left Colton and Sophie alone on the porch. She sat in one of the weathered rockers, staring out at the yard.
“A penny for your thoughts,” he said as he sat next to her.
Sophie burst into tears.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
“No, they’re not sad tears. They’re happy tears. Sunny said I was a guest and wouldn’t let me help, so I sat on a stool and chatted with her, Gloria and Tori as they made lunch. I got to really watch the three of them in action, and it hit me. I did exactly what I wanted to do. I’ve screwed up so much, but I managed to do this one thing perfect.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
Sophie sniffed. “I gave my daughter the family I always wanted. Not just parents, but a family. They were talking about an annual fall family picnic here on the farm. Everyone tries to come in on the weekend before Labor Day. They invited us.”
She sniffled again. “Like we were members of the family. And Tori told Sunny about the baby and said she was giving us Dom and Gloria as the baby’s grandparents, and then asked Sunny if she’d like to be a great-grandmother. Sunny started talking about making Cletus some baby blankets, and then asked if I’d thought about spit clothes. I don’t know if I’ve ever even known I should think about spit clothes, then she told me she makes them out of cotton flannel and not to worry—she’ll see I have a supply.”
Sophie started to cry again in earnest. Colton reached for her by instinct, and she pulled away. “You can’t know. Your mom, the other day, she said she made you this plaid corduroy bear that you loved when you were little. She’s making one for Cletus that’s like it. She didn’t scold me or treat me any differently than she always had.”
“Why would she?” he asked.
“Because you did,” Sophie said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “After you found out about Tori.”
Before he could protest, that he’d been angry but had long since gotten over it, she said, “You grew up with a mother who made you plaid bears.” She paused a moment and said, “I sent my parents that card about Cletus. I got a note back. All it said was, ‘Another baby out of wedlock? Nothing’s changed. Don’t contact us again.’”
“I’m so sorry.”
“That’s not why I told you,” Sophie said. “I sat in the kitchen and watched Tori with her mother and grandmother and realized I gave my daughter the family I never had. A family where someone makes spit clothes and hangs up a child’s artwork with all the reverence they’d use for a Picasso. I gave her that. And we’ll give Cletus that. Maybe not a conventional family, but he’ll be surrounded by people who love him. You, me, our friends, your family, Tori, her family. This baby will have so much love and support.”
“You never had that.” He’d known that, but he wasn’t sure he’d really understood how lonely that would have been until now.
“My grandmother loved me. If she’d been alive, she would have been disappointed I got pregnant in my teens, but I think she would have helped me. That’s something. It’s enough.”
It wasn’t enough, though.
Sophie deserved the kind of family Tori had. One that thought she hung the moon. One that loved her no matter what.
He’d give her that.
If she’d let him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ON MONDAY MORNING, Sophie, Mattie and Lily pulled into Harper Akina’s Wedding or Knots bridal salon before lunch. It wasn’t a long drive, just a bit over an hour. And though she talked and laughed with her friends, Sophie couldn’t help reflecting about how much had changed since their springtime visit to the same shop.
That time, they’d come to pick up the dresses for her wedding. It seemed like a lifetime ago rather than mere months. Sophie remembered how she’d felt as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She’d felt so beautiful in her wedding dress. She’d stared at herself for a long while, imagining the perfect life she’d have with Colton.
Perfect? Her life definitely wasn’t that. But despite the upheavals, the pain, she was...happy.
She caressed her rapidly expanding stomach. Come Christmas, she’d have her son. He’d be too young to remember his first Christmas, but she’d store away memories for both of them.
“Are you okay?” Lily asked as they climbed out of the car.
“You don’t have to come in and—” Mattie started.
Sophie interrupted her. “Of course I’m coming in. Harper said she’d found the perfect dresses for us.”
Mattie still looked unsure. Sophie reached out and took her friend’s hand. “Listen, I love you and I am so thrilled to be standing beside you when you marry Finn. And as long as I’m telling you how happy I am, I’m going to add, I’m extremely pleased you’re getting married sooner rather than later. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be shopping for a dress for me, we’d be shopping for a tent.”
“You look lovely,” Lily said staunchly.
“Oh, come on. You’re the bridesmaid-zilla. You know you’re feeling relieved I’m not waddling up the aisle.”
Lily shook her head and offered up her standard response. “I’m not that bad.”
Sophie and Mattie chimed in unison, “Yes, you are.”
As they walked into the shop, Mattie joined Sophie in laughing and assuring Lily she was, but they loved her anyway. The door hadn’t even swung shut before Harper Akina was standing next to them. “I’ve been waiting for the three of you. Wait until you see.”
Harper was one of the few people that Sophie knew who made her feel tall. Even with her mile-high heels, Harper was a tiny woman. Her sleek black hair fell down to the middle of her back, and it was easy to believe if she let it grow any longer, it might outweigh her and topple her over.
“I had everyone’s size from—” She clapped a hand over her mouth, as if realizing she’d been about to mention Sophie’s interrupted wedding.
“It’s okay, Harper,” Sophie said. “Things probably worked out for the best.”
Her two friends and Harper looked at her as if they didn’t believe a word of it. Well, that was fine, because Sophie wasn’t sure she believed a word she’d said, either.
She loved Colton, and maybe that would be enough. He had asked her to marry him for the baby’s sake. He must still love her at least a little.
She’d given up so much in order to see that Tori got the kind of life, the kind of family, she deserved. Could she do less for this baby?
All the pain she’d gone through for Tori had worked. Watching Tori interact with her family at the farm had assured Sophie how well it had worked.
Maybe she should settle and marry Colton for Cletus’s sake. She smiled as she thought of the name. She knew how much Colton loved this baby already. Maybe that would be enough. Maybe she could give up her dreams of marrying someone who loved her for herself. Loved her no matter what.
Maybe giving up that dream would be worth it in the end.
“...and I saw these and knew,” Harper said as she led them into the back.
Three garment bags hung on hooks, and she opened two at once. “Mattie, I know you said that you and your Finn were having a quiet ceremony in your backyard. You told me it was going to be even less of a to-do than Sophie’s.”
Harper looked horrified. “I’m sorry, Sophie. So very sorry.”
Sophie wasn’t sure if Harper was apologizing for mentioning the wedding again, or for the fact there had been no wedding. “It’s okay, Harper. Really. I don’t know how we coul
d be here and not mention my almost-wedding.”
Harper nodded but still looked upset as she removed two pale yellow sundresses from their garment bags. Sophie knew that a lot of brides assured their bridesmaids that they could wear their dresses again, but this time it would be true. They were simple yellow-and-tan-striped cotton knee-length sundresses.
“Oh, they’re perfect,” Mattie said.
Harper grinned and opened the third garment bag. It was a white sundress, with slightly thicker straps over the shoulder, and a couple of small fabric flowers in the same material on the right shoulder. It was simple and feminine without being too froufrou, an utter no-no in Mattie’s book, Sophie knew.
Mattie sighed and smiled. “That’s perfect.”
“Well, I have a confession. I didn’t find them through any of my suppliers. I got them at a department store. I was shopping for myself and saw them and knew they would suit your, uh...”
“Rather relaxed style,” Lily supplied.
Harper shot Lily a look of gratitude. “Yes, your relaxed style.”
“And yet they’re weddingish enough to suit... What’s my nickname again?” Lily asked, though she knew perfectly well.
“Bridesmaid-zilla,” Mattie supplied.
Lily nodded. “Yeah, that’s it,” she said as if it were the first time she’d heard the term. “Well, they look enough like a wedding to suit me, too.”
“So tell me about your other plans while you try them on,” Harper said.
“It’s going to be simple. A potluck in the backyard,” Mattie said from inside one of the dressing rooms.
Sophie knew that Mattie’s house’s backyard was actually considered big for a house in town, but she also knew how many people would want to come to Mattie and Finn’s wedding. The entire community had grieved when Finn’s sister had died, and had tried to support Mattie as she came home to care for the kids.
And the entire community had cheered as Finn and Mattie had fallen in love. No one was going to want to miss their wedding. Mattie’s dreams of a small potluck were pipe dreams at best.
