by Tif Marcelo
“Sounds like I’m going to get the vacation you say I need.” She looked up at Gloria. “It’s an SOS.”
CHAPTER TWO
Adelaide
Present Day, Thursday
“Lord, help me,” Adelaide Wilson-Chang groaned at the kitchen sink. She let go of the vintage Corelle plate, grateful that it was indestructible as it clattered into the porcelain, and gripped the sink’s apron front with her left hand. She pressed with the heel of her right hand against the sharp pain in her abdomen.
She counted backward from ten and focused her eyes on the sponge sitting in the sink. These days, she’d resorted to her labor breathing to cope, and while for the most part it worked, the pain was getting worse. Last week, she could have walked through the pain; two weeks before then, she’d been able to fake her way through her mommy meetups and her neighborhood La Leche League meetings. But now, God, she couldn’t even do the dishes without her gallbladder acting up.
Five… four… three…
The pain ebbed, and Adelaide straightened tentatively. Her vision expanded to include the entire room; sounds returned. The laughter of her daughter, Genevieve, reached her ears—a salve—and with that, the rest of the pain subsided.
Two… one.
And with one final deep breath, Adelaide’s body relaxed into its normal stance, and her breathing returned to normal. Her gaze lingered on the open window that provided a view of the postage-stamp-sized backyard of her town house, and she pressed a hand against her forehead, now damp with sweat.
“It’s fine, everything’s fine,” she said aloud to the empty kitchen, echoing what her mama would say when the poop started to hit the fan. The mantra acted like a reset button, her declaration to the world. If she said it, it would happen. After all, everything was fine. She had pain, sure, but that would be fixed soon. Her family was safe, albeit not all present, and best of all, one of her best friends, Sophie, was here, and the other, Regina, was on the way.
Currently, Sophie was play-chasing and pretending to lose a game of tag to Genevieve in the small area of grass. Sophie cackled, and her laugh traveled through the air like skipping stones. At almost two years old, Genevieve was quick on her feet, and as she ran, her arms flailed in uninhibited joy. Her innocence was both beautiful and bittersweet, and Adelaide wished for the hundredth time that her husband was home to witness it.
“Hey, Adelaide, what time is it? I don’t have my phone with me.” Sophie’s voice knocked Adelaide out of her thoughts. Sophie was gazing at her through the open kitchen window. “I have to call Jasper. I completely forgot to check in when I landed.”
For a beat Adelaide was transported back to when Sophie had played with her own kids in their shared backyard years ago, because it was as if she hadn’t aged at all. Sophie’s dark skin was smooth and free of wrinkles; the only clue that time had passed were the occasional silver strands of hair in her tight ponytail. She and her partner, Jasper, currently lived in Tampa. They were newly retired from the Army and starting the next chapter of their lives.
“It’s just shy of three,” Adelaide answered, voice croaking, after glancing at the hanging grandfather clock. “What did Jasper say when you left? Was he upset I asked you out here?”
“No, c’mon.” Sophie’s voice grew louder as she came in through the French doors, carrying Genevieve on a hip. She snorted through her sardonic smile. “You know how many trips away from home he’s made, some of them last-minute. He can handle a long weekend on his own.”
Adelaide worried her bottom lip. It had been a little more than a week since she sent the SOS in a fit of panic and pain, and she hadn’t really understood what kind of corner she’d backed her friends into. Sophie was a pediatric nurse, and for her to ask for days off after recently being hired…
“Hey.” Sophie tugged on Adelaide’s arm as they migrated to the living room. “Don’t worry about it. I want to be here. You can’t have surgery without help. And what’s the point of me becoming a nurse if I can’t be there for the people I love? It’s your damn gallbladder, Ad. And your husband’s in another country. Anyway, I’ve been wanting to spend some time with my goddaughter. If I waited any longer to meet her, it would have taken her days instead of an hour to get used to me.”
Sophie snuggled Genevieve. In response, Adelaide’s baby girl giggled, cheeks reddening with joy. “And SOS or not, honestly, I needed some time away, even if it is twenty degrees colder here.” She shivered. “I almost need a coat, and I don’t think I’ve put one on since moving to Tampa.”
“You can borrow any one of mine. I grew quite a collection in Seoul. Though, I might have to declutter since I admittedly went overboard shopping over there.”
“You’re preaching to the choir. I actually took a trip to the post thrift shop a week ago to donate all of mine,” Sophie said, nonchalant.
With every duty station came a different way of life, dependent on location and on the job their spouses, as active-duty soldiers, held. Duty stations were also how Adelaide marked time, both as an Army brat and an Army wife. Two years here, one year there, and sometimes a midyear switch that threw everyone into a tizzy. It had been a little over six years since she and Sophie had lived in the same location—they’d been lucky to have ended up together twice in the last ten years—but it was as if no time had passed.
It would only be made better by Regina’s arrival. “I’m thankful you’re here, Soph. As much as I can’t wait to get rid of my lemon of a gallbladder, selfishly, I needed adult company. This place feels too big even with just the two of us.”
“It doesn’t feel too big to me. It feels lived in, like you’ve been settled in for years instead of months.” Sophie gestured a hand toward the dining room, at Adelaide’s nine-foot buffet, smiling. “And it looks like everything’s intact.”
“We got lucky with movers this time. But you know how it is. We gotta make it a home or else we’ll never feel like we’re home,” Adelaide said, ready to launch into a diatribe about her predicament of having to lease a storage unit, since the town house didn’t have an attic or a basement for all of her memorabilia, but her phone buzzed in her pocket. Her eyes shot to the front windows that looked out onto the narrow cobblestone street, and she approached the foyer. A shadow of a person crossed the window next to the front door, and Adelaide stepped back, gasping. “Jesus, I’m still not used to being this close to the sidewalk. People are literally on the other side of this wall.”
Sophie joined her. “That’s what you get for wanting to live in a historic town. I’m actually surprised that you didn’t choose the suburbs. What happened to your ‘colonial house with a wraparound porch’? You hated apartment living in Millersville.”
At the mention of the military town where they’d met, Adelaide turned her attention to the empty parking spot in front of her town house. Millersville was a decade ago, and what she was back then, idealistic and somewhat naive—she no longer was. With a softer voice she said, “I guess I changed my mind.”
“That car…” Sophie peered as a tan Mercedes-Benz rolled up.
The car in question parallel parked with ease, on the first try. It was a behemoth, a vintage coupe. There weren’t many like it on the road, because it was the Euro version five hundred series that had been converted to American road standards. The car’s name was Baby.
Adelaide knew all of this because the owner had once told her so.
“You didn’t.” Sophie’s voice was tight, strangled. “No, Ad.”
Adelaide giggled, because what else was she to do? Despite the drama that would soon engulf them, her best friends were about to be in same vicinity for the first time in ten years. The occasion was momentous—a feat only Adelaide could coordinate.
Because this SOS wasn’t just about her. Adelaide’s gallbladder might’ve turned her life upside down, but her upcoming surgery had given her the opportunity to make lemons out of lemonade. She had a plan—to reunite her estranged best friends with an SOS after The Fight a d
ecade ago had broken their three-pack apart.
CHAPTER THREE
Sophie
Sophie Walden wasn’t the kind of woman who minced words. It came from years of being in the nursing field, where directness was an asset. Sure, empathy and compassion were key to a caregiver’s success—she herself didn’t appreciate hardened nurses who’d forgotten the plight of the sick—but there was no substitution for the straightforward truth.
But Sophie also believed truth could be told with grace. Her mother had excelled at this sleight of hand, with hidden messages behind her words, often peppering her constructive criticisms with the sweet addition of an endearing nickname to ease the sting. This belief also came from dealing with a partner—a husband in the eyes of the law—for twenty years who lived and died by her opinions. It came from her children’s reactions to her mood.
And despite the avalanche of conflicting emotions at seeing Regina Castro unload her car, Sophie remembered that Adelaide had been and was in pain. So instead of launching into a tirade, Sophie simply asked, “What is she doing here?”
Adelaide mumbled something indecipherable, brushed past her, and rushed to the oak door, throwing it open. Light spilled across the threshold. The moment was straight out of the past, when once upon a time, Adelaide opened her home for get-togethers with Sophie and Regina. It was a moment of déjà vu so vivid that Sophie had to remind herself that it was 2021, not 2011.
With Regina’s appearance, The Fight rushed back in full clarity, as if time simply picked up where it had left off. Then again, The Fight was never resolved. It wasn’t resolved because she and Regina had simply walked away from each other, and life had gone on. Despite Sophie’s multiple attempts at reconciliation with Regina, they’d both moved on and somehow were able to each negotiate, over time, a friendship with Adelaide, but not with each other.
Regina appeared at the door, a vision of color, dragging a green hard-shell suitcase with her. Her long brown hair was highlighted, some strands red against the sun. She wore a sunny yellow flowered shirt and white jeans, complementing her light brown skin. Divorce and civilian life looked good on her.
“Oh my God, first of all, Northern Virginia is so pretty. And this town! I’m seriously packing up my business to bring it here. Your foyer, so beautiful! I recognize so many things! And you! I missed your face!” Regina, the epitome of a chatterbox, threw herself at Adelaide.
Sophie winced at Regina’s insensitivity to Adelaide’s pain.
Then, Regina’s attention migrated to one of Adelaide’s decorations on the wall and she commented on it, too. “How do you make everything look so good?” Her eyes scanned the rest of the room. And when she turned, her gaze landed squarely on Sophie.
Sophie met her eyes and willed herself to smile.
Or at least, grit her teeth together. In truth, Sophie’s insides were a furnace lit by a decade-old ember.
Regina’s eyes widened, and she stepped back. She side-eyed Adelaide, whose entire face had flushed pink. “Um, what’s going on? And what’s she doing here? You sent me an SOS.”
“Well, at least we got the same story for this trick,” Sophie added. Somehow, though, she’d had a tiny inkling that something like this was going to happen, eventually. Adelaide had occasionally brought up Regina in their conversations, as if testing the waters, admittedly smoothing some of the jagged edges of their past. But there had been no lead-up to this moment, no hints dropped. Sure, Sophie thrived on the unexpected—hospitals were a hotbed for it—but this, from Adelaide?
This trip was supposed to be Sophie’s getaway. Besides her primary mission to help Adelaide, her plan was to relax.
Sophie shook her head. “I left Jasper and my girls, Adelaide. I took days off without pay. This is wrong.”
“I know, you guys…” Adelaide looked at them with those doe eyes, a hand reached out to each. “So I tricked you both, sort of. But I didn’t lie. Reggie, I said I needed help with Gen, because you are the most fun person I know, and Soph, I said I needed a nurse because you’re the best caregiver I know. All of these things are the God’s honest truth, pinky swear.”
Ah, those eyes. Sophie always fell for those eyes. Her twins had the same look—and they also knew when to wield it. She shook her head, undecided on what to do. This was not ideal, but Sophie refused to be the one to leave. Ten years ago, it was she who had quietly slinked away, but she was here first, quite frankly. And she couldn’t go back to Tampa. Not yet.
Not until she figured out herself and her relationship with Jasper.
Regina dipped her chin. Then, she started to laugh.
The woman was laughing. Of course she would laugh—she laughed at the most inopportune times.
“What’s so funny?” Sophie asked.
“I just… I can’t believe this. I mean, thank goodness I didn’t have to cancel a catering client. And that I have my mom and Logan to take care of Miko. Not cool, Ad.”
Adelaide sidestepped so she blocked the front door. “Please, don’t go, either of you. My gallbladder needs to come out. I’m in a lot of pain. Matt’s family is in Taiwan, and they’re too old to travel here. My mom’s caring for my dad full-time now. And yes, there are folks I know in the area who could make me meals, who could check in on me.” Fear flashed in Adelaide’s eyes. “But I don’t trust anyone else with Genevieve, or to come into my home and really know my business. You are the only two I trust in this whole wide world besides my husband. When I go under the knife tomorrow, I won’t be worried at all if I know you’re both here.” The last of her words echoed through the house, and it was answered by Genevieve’s faint cry. The little girl had been so quiet, Sophie had forgotten she was in her arms.
Genevieve wiggled and reached out to her mother, like she knew Mama needed a hug.
Adelaide slung her daughter on her hip, wincing a little, and Genevieve buried her face into her mother’s neck. All at once, Sophie’s heart relented. There were only a few family members left in her life, and Adelaide was family by choice. Reggie had been, too, once upon a time. For family, Sophie would have spared no expense or time to ensure they were okay. Old beef or no old beef.
She wasn’t the kind of woman who walked away.
Or am I?
Her own words speared her.
No, no, she wasn’t.
CHAPTER FOUR
Regina
“This is… I can’t do this.” A swirl of anger swept Regina up like the beginnings of a tornado, and it threatened to upend her. Grappling with the handle of her suitcase, she leaned against the wall to get her bearings.
When a military spouse called for an SOS, the answer was always yes. The reason was clear and undeniable: milspouses didn’t rally the troops for the small things. They’d endured too much, forged by over two decades of conflict, stemming from 9/11, when lives had been divided into before and after. Before, in the post–Desert Storm calm, the most inconvenient duty station for families had been a tour in South Korea. But in the after, everything changed. In the after, deployments were a given. In the after, families had to bend in new ways.
What rose from the constant ash of a long war were families who learned to survive. It meant single-parent families; it meant children displaced from their parents. It meant bolstering oneself for the worst-case scenario despite maintaining positive thinking. It also meant saving your help tokens until you needed to cash them in.
Once upon a time, Regina, Sophie, and Adelaide had agreed to always show up when an SOS was called. And Regina, despite having left the milspouse life via divorce, still held fast to this rule. In fact, being an Army veteran was part of her identity, and she was proud that she’d been a part of something bigger than herself.
But she hadn’t anticipated Adelaide taking advantage of her loyalty and bring in Sophie, too.
Sophie, a woman she hadn’t seen in a decade. The only other woman in the world who had made as good a friend as Adelaide, close enough to be sisters.
No, this wasn’
t part of the agreement.
“I’m leaving.” Regina’s gaze darted between them, and she turned toward the front door. Twelve hours she’d been on the road, and her body was bone-tired, but she’d endure another twelve rather than face Adelaide’s attempt at playing peacemaker.
Adelaide’s face fell. “No, please.”
“Excuse me,” Regina said firmly, quietly.
Seconds passed, and finally, Adelaide moved away from the door.
Regina stepped across the threshold. She didn’t look back. Although she felt the heat of Adelaide’s pleading stare, she put one foot in front of the other.
Outside, she allowed the anger to well up within her. She loaded her suitcase forcefully—she knew she would be mad at herself later on if either the car or the suitcase ended up with a scratch—but she didn’t care at the moment. Then she rounded the vehicle and slipped into the driver’s seat, where she struggled to fit the key into the ignition. The keys fumbled in her hand as she frustratedly banged and pushed the key against the ignition, but everything seemed to work against her. “Damn it.”
The sharp echo of her voice startled her, and it gave her pause. She put her hand against her chest, feeling the familiar pound of her heart, of it breaking, again.
Regina took a deep breath and methodically stuck the correct key into the ignition. She turned it with a click, and Baby growled to life.
How foolish she had been to so easily have jumped into the car just days after that debutante party, without asking Adelaide any pertinent questions. She’d scrambled and made plans with Logan and her mother for Miko’s care, which had been a cobweb of coordination.
With shaking hands, she set the map of her phone back to Columbus, Georgia, 550 miles.
The phone buzzed, and a text flew in.
Henry
You’re prob stuck on I95 but just wanted to say welcome to VA!
