by Tif Marcelo
“What?” Sophie shook off her thoughts and sat up in the four-poster bed of the guest room, cell phone pressed against her ear.
“I was just saying that I don’t remember when you’ve ever left home. I think it’s good that you’re on a girls’ trip,” Olivia, the elder of her twin seventeen-year-old high school seniors, said.
“It’s not really a girls’ trip. You know that.”
“Well, this is so very midlife crisis, and I approve.”
“I don’t,” another voice said in the background.
Sophie shut her eyes. It was Carmela, the younger twin, but the more dominant of the two when it came to her opinions.
In Sophie’s ear, the background noise amplified.
“You’re on speaker now,” Olivia said.
“Carmela,” Sophie called out. “It’s not a midlife crisis.”
“It better not be.” Carmela’s voice was stern. “When are you coming home?”
Sophie lay back down, looked up at the ceiling, and sighed. “It all depends on how your Auntie Adelaide does.”
“How is Auntie Adelaide?”
“Fine, so far. Surgery’s tomorrow.”
“And then, you’ll be home right after?” Carmela asked. “Because I already miss you.”
“Will you leave her alone?” Olivia piped up, sounding farther away. “Mama, you can be gone this weekend. We can handle the house and Daddy without you.”
“Speak for yourself, Daddy will be a mess without her,” Carmela said. “He was a mess today. He was moping around and eating all the junk food. It’s bad, real bad.”
Her girls continued to bicker, and Sophie shut her eyes in exasperation. Seven or seventeen, her girls hadn’t changed. Their ideas were polar opposites, down to how they thought their mother—who was in her midforties and had earned her stripes, thank you very much—should handle her personal life. Then again, she had to be thankful that the girls even cared. Many of her friends had kids who simply took their money and ran off without even a thank-you text back.
“Hey, now. Liv. Carm.”
When they fell silent, she continued, “I told you I was keeping the return date open-ended. The clinic doesn’t need me for a couple of weeks, so I’m going to play it by ear. Liv’s right, Carm. Your daddy can take care of himself, and so can you.”
“No, I can’t. I need you,” Carm said in her stubborn way.
Sophie imagined her face scrunched up, cheeks blown out in indignation. She laughed. “I need you, too… to understand. It’s important I’m here.”
“Fine,” she whined. “But something doesn’t feel right.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” And yet, Sophie knew she was fibbing. Of the two girls, Carmela had a finger on the pulse of the family. She was like a sponge, an empath, and a lie detector. She knew that Sophie had basically run away from home.
As the girls jumped into describing what they’d done during school, Sophie examined the room she was in. It was like a Longaberger basket factory exploded in this twelve-foot-by-twelve-foot bedroom space. Square baskets lined a horizontal shelf mounted on a wall. Atop a pine armoire sat circular-shaped baskets tipped to their sides with faux greenery spilling from them. Two cylindrical baskets on the antique school desk in the corner were filled with pencils.
The baskets had been purchased at those multilevel-marketing home parties where the hostess plied everyone with drinks and food, and people threw down hundreds of dollars on baskets. Peer pressure and retail therapy in one afternoon—once upon a time, Sophie’s life had been filled with those sorts of parties. It was another way for military spouses to bond.
Sort of like book club.
At the thought of book club, heartburn climbed Sophie’s chest.
When her daughters began arguing on the other end of the line—one wanted LED lights hung around their room, and the other believed that it would interrupt their REM sleep—Sophie excused herself, burdened with her own warring thoughts and the voices of Adelaide and Regina downstairs.
“Girls, I’ve got to go. Call me, later?”
“Bye, Mommy,” they said, almost in unison.
After Sophie hung up, she took a breath. A second later, her phone rang again. It could only be one other person. She lifted the phone to her face, pressing her lips together at her psychic ability. She clicked the answer button. “Jasper.”
“When were you going to call to let me know you got there? I’ve been waiting.”
Her first thought: Damn it.
Her second reaction: raised hackles. Really, Jasper’s request wasn’t strange, nor was it demanding, but this concern was extra. “It took forever to get out of Reagan, and I wanted to speak with the girls first,” she said with more bite to her words than she’d planned.
“I’m sorry, I was just… worried.” His tone switched to pensive. “You didn’t exactly tell me your plans.”
“I did tell you.”
“No, you mentioned that Adelaide needed your help. But you didn’t tell me the details until the day before you left!”
I mean, technically I did tell you.
“It’s like you up and left me.” A hint of anger sparked in his voice, and a sigh followed. “All I wanted was for you to call, and you didn’t. So I’m sorry for sounding upset. I was in the dark, until Carmela buzzed me and said she was on the phone with you.”
“That second daughter of mine,” she quipped. Carmela, her intuitive young lady. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you first.”
A beat of silence passed, after which Jasper said, “I guess the girls have the whole weekend planned for me.”
She drew on her patience. “Oh yeah?”
“Something about board games and making a music video on their phone.”
“That’s sweet.” Sophie felt a tinge of jealousy. Not once had her girls asked her to be in a music video. Then again, as the person home every single day, she was old hat.
“I guess.” He laughed. “They showed me a move a little bit ago. I almost threw my back out practicing it.”
Sophie cackled, softening. Jasper was the best father, despite having been absent half their girls’ lives. She had to remember that she’d had twice the amount of time to parent their children. “Just… please, don’t order takeout the whole time.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Though I hope we’re not looking at too many days without you.”
The mood plunged into awkwardness, reminiscent of the last few months. She didn’t remember when their conversation turned into this weird walking on eggshells. When their nights in bed consisted of her pretending to sleep and wondering how he fell into slumber. What she did know was that things for her began to change when he retired from the Army after two decades, and the girls received their college acceptances. Suddenly, she truly gave no more fucks.
“Oh!” she said, snapping herself out of her thoughts. Speaking of giving no fucks. “Guess who’s here?”
“Um…”
“Regina.”
He gasped. “Regina? As in Castro?”
“The one and only.”
“Wow,” he said.
“I know.”
“Babe… are you okay? That’s it. I’m coming to get you.”
Sophie’s eyes brimmed with tears, and she patted her cheeks to keep them from flowing. Goodness, Jasper just had a way. His primary instinct was to think of people. To check in on her, despite the miles and the time apart that they’d logged during their twenty-year relationship. Knowing that Jasper had her back had been a consolation that superseded all notions of romantic love. Because in the end, wasn’t that what successful relationships were built on? Friendship? Loyalty? Trust?
Despite her deep love for him, her feelings about their relationship were a dichotomy: live in comfort but in stagnation, or seek new adventures and the unknown. All she knew was that her time in Virginia would give her some space to think, despite her deep love for him.
Sophie forced herself back into the conversation, to the rea
son why she was hiding out in the bedroom. “No, I’m not okay.”
“Then I’ll come for you.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m staying.”
“Why should you subject yourself to something that you buried years ago?”
“I don’t want to give her a single reason to think I’m running from her. I belong here.”
“Soph—you’ve got nothing to prove.”
“Still.”
A phone rang on Jasper’s end. “Damn it. I’ve… I’ve got to go, my other cell’s ringing. And I’ve got to take it.”
Of course he did. He was on the cusp of a new beginning and still worked with the same honorable fervor. Sophie knew her place in the mix. But this time, she was grateful that his attention had switched, because she didn’t want to slip into the next line of their conversation, which was the crack in their common-law marriage.
“All right.”
“But listen, from someone who was there, hear me out,” he warned.
She shut her eyes. “Yeah.”
“You are by nature a caring person. You’ve taken care of this family, and you tend to take care of everyone around you. But you’ve got to take care of yourself first.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Love you.”
“Love you,” she answered back, meaning it.
After hanging up, Sophie launched herself out of bed with one thought in her mind. That she was in Alexandria to not only take care of Adelaide but to also take care of herself, and she wasn’t going to let Regina’s presence ruin it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Regina
“I’ll stay only under certain conditions,” Regina said, drawing Adelaide’s attention toward her. “And it’s something that I’ll need to say to both you and Sophie.”
“Okayyy.” Adelaide stretched out the word as she side-eyed the doorway. “But who is that fine specimen of a man?” She gestured with her head. “Out there.”
Regina sighed; she wanted Adelaide focused on her. “You’re just as bad as my mother.” She turned to Henry and waved him in. Admittedly, if she’d passed him on the street, she would have been distracted, too. “This is the guy who you have to thank that I’m back. This is Henry Just, of Just Cakes.”
“Just Cakes from down the street? My, my, aren’t you a tall drink of hard lemonade.”
Henry set down the bags and offered his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is surely all mine.” As she shook his hand, she winked at Regina.
It took all of Regina’s willpower not to roll her eyes. Instead, she said, “We’ve known each other for about a year now—”
“Ah, eighteen months actually,” Henry said.
Adelaide touched Regina’s arm. “Eighteen months. Get it right, woman.”
“Anyway,” Regina continued. She had to stir this soup before it got lumpy. She’d practiced her conversation points with Henry on their food-shopping trip, after she’d decided that the only right thing to do was return. “I stopped by his place when I left here—”
Adelaide’s eyebrows rose.
“At the bakery,” Henry confirmed.
“Right, and instead of heading all the way back to Georgia, which was my true intention, because I’m mad at you, Adelaide Wilson-Chang. So mad I could scream.” She took a deep breath. “But… I realized, or he helped me realize, that I would have regretted it if I left without trying to stay under this roof, with her.”
Adelaide nodded. The change in her expression was so drastic that a part of Regina wished she could have taken the serious stuff back, because Adelaide was fun, and damn, did Regina want to discuss Henry. She wanted to model-walk around like a queen because this man she’d known only through the internet was actually and truly real. Online friends didn’t always translate to in-person friends. How many times had she attempted to meet people online, only to be catfished by their seemingly good looks and ability to write the perfect profile? Or the times when she’d been ghosted because there had always been something wrong with her.
Henry clapped his hands together. “Well, I think that’s my cue. Regina, you’ve got my digits.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll text you later.” He kissed Regina on the cheek casually, as if this was their usual farewell. The touch of his lips on her skin melted her insides like chocolate over heat.
When the door closed behind him, Regina lifted a hand toward Adelaide before she decided to say anything else. “We can talk about him later. Where’s Sophie?”
“Sophie is right here.” Sophie descended the staircase like a formidable ghost. She was a reminder to Regina that friendships and relationships could dissolve in a matter of days.
Stop it. That was the divorce talking. The breakup and the resultant breakdown of what had been her life had done a number on Regina’s psyche. Hands down, her divorce from Sophie had been equally as devastating as her divorce from Logan, and even more difficult to reconcile.
Toe to toe, and no longer under shadows as they had been in Baby, Regina cataloged Sophie, ten years later. Could it be possible that she appeared stronger now? Because her posture was more confident, more poised than before. She was the kind of nurse all patients wanted around.
That was precisely why Regina had to return. She couldn’t allow Sophie to be indispensable. Regina was Adelaide’s best friend, too. Regina had something to offer as well. Was it competition? Hell yes.
She stood straighter. “I’m staying, Sophie.”
Sophie responded by raising an eyebrow.
“Do I like that you’re here? No. But Adelaide called me, too. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, you were right. This whole situation isn’t about the two of us. It’s about her, and it’s about Genevieve, and we know that while you’re a whiz in that hospital room, you’ll need help with Gen. And frankly, out of the two of us, I’m the better cook.”
Regina winced at her own words. She wasn’t the only one who could cook out of the three of them, but being a credentialed chef was her only one-up.
Sophie crossed her arms. “You’ve always got something to say.”
“That’s right, just like you.” Regina quipped back. “And I’m not done. I’ve got some house rules.”
“Technically this isn’t your—”
“It’s okay, Soph,” Adelaide said, then nodded for Regina to continue.
“The first rule is that I’m not sharing a room with you.” She pointed at Sophie.
“That’s fine.” Adelaide answered quickly. “You can take Genevieve’s room. A daybed’s already set up. Genevieve is fine to stay with me, in her portable crib.”
“Second is that I don’t want to talk about the past. At all.” She leveled a stare at the two of them. “Not even a whiff. I’ve moved on. It’s been ten years.”
Sophie crossed her arms. “Believe me, it’s not on my docket to discuss.”
Regina bristled at her answer, at the way Sophie had brushed off the event as if it were just a silly fight they had. It had taken months, years even, for Regina to even talk about what happened.
“Third—the kitchen is mine.”
“Now, wait a minute.” Sophie’s face wrinkled into a frown. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Hey. There can only be one in charge, you should know that. I’m a chef. This is my thing. I won’t micromanage your care of Adelaide, you don’t step into my kitchen, and we share Genevieve.” At the expression that the two of them gave her, she added, “Years of therapy after a divorce, ladies. I’m asking for what I want. And I want boundaries.”
“It’s a yes from me, of course,” Adelaide said.
They both looked at Sophie, whose face didn’t betray what her upcoming decision would be. If she was being honest, Regina hadn’t been worried about Adelaide agreeing to her terms. Adelaide knew how to apologize; Adelaide had actually gotten on the horn to weather her anger.
Sophie, on the other hand… she had sent weak emails a
nd a passive-aggressive friend request on Facebook.
But finally, after enough mind-numbing seconds in which Regina was on the cusp of turning and walking out the door, Sophie nodded.
“Agreed.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Adelaide
September 2011
Adelaide wished for time to stop. With her hand ensconced in Matt’s, protected and warmed from the chill that had started to invade their part of the country, she clutched on to the last minutes before her husband left for deployment.
“Babe?” Matt shook her hand. He was in full camouflage uniform, with a green duffel strapped to his back. His headgear, with its brim molded into a distinct downward curve, was tipped backward on his head, so she could see a tuft of his curly black hair—though he didn’t keep much of it on his head at any one time—peeking from his forehead. His dark eyes gleamed, his cheekbones were high in a grin, and he gestured to a couple approaching them. Jasper and Sophie.
The lead-up to deployment had been hectic; the coffee that she had planned with Sophie and Regina never came to fruition. In the last three weeks, there had been meetings, and lots of them, with family members, where they’d discussed contingencies should emergencies happen downrange—the deployed arena—or on the home front. Adelaide had been a key player, since the company commander didn’t have a spouse, and she had been more than happy to step up.
Now, seeing Sophie in front of her, her partner in crime through pre-deployment, she allowed herself to exhale.
Sophie leaned in for a hug. Adelaide squeezed her back with every bit of emotion she felt but couldn’t show and received an equally strong embrace. Adelaide had been feeling like she’d been failing for a while, but she’d still ensured her face, her home, and her demeanor were perfect, with no one the wiser, her mother’s good example pervasive in her thoughts.
“You good?” Sophie whispered.
“No? Yes? You?”
“Eh.”
“Seen Regina?”
“She texted. She’s running late. But she’ll be here. I mean, of course.” Sophie stepped back, a grin on her face.
