In a Book Club Far Away

by Tif Marcelo

  Regina’s expression was flat. “What were you guys talking about? It looked serious.”

  “Nothing, just asking how he was settling in.” Sophie turned to Logan. “Right?”

  “Yeah. And I was wondering where Sergeant Clemens was.”

  “And I was saying that he’s… actually with the twins and Adelaide just on the other side. You guys should join us if you haven’t eaten. We grabbed a picnic bench and everything.” Sophie felt sweat beading on the back of her neck from the suspicion in Regina’s eyes.

  “We’ve already eaten,” Regina said.

  Sophie was desperate to lift the mood, to buy herself some time, to look less conspicuous. “Did you end up reading this month’s book club selection? The one that Kerry had to cancel?”

  “Uh, no.” Regina’s face relaxed. “With redeployment and the third trimester, whenever I sit down, I end up falling asleep. I heard it was heartbreaking.”

  “It is. It’s a nonfiction about the HeLa cells, which were taken from a Black woman and then grown for research, and yet, her descendants haven’t received a dime. At the heart of it, the book’s really about doing what’s right and calling out the wrong things when it’s necessary.” She wasn’t sure why that came out of her mouth, except that she felt a rush of protectiveness toward her friend.

  Regina raised an eyebrow.

  “Anyway, next book club is at my house. I’m sending out an email soon. But I’ve got to run. Seriously, my bladder.” She leaned in to hug Regina, an overkill, but necessary. “Come join us at the picnic tables, by the game tent, if you can.”

  “Uh, sure.”

  Sophie rushed to the bathroom line, which miraculously had shrunk, and she heaved a sigh. She really could have messed things up back there. This was not about her; this was about her friend. Her pregnant friend.

  She had to protect her, though she didn’t know how to.

  PART SEVEN

  You can tell your story any way you damn well please. It’s your solo.

  —The Sky Is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Adelaide

  Present Day, Friday

  What a difference forty-eight hours had made. On Friday morning, Adelaide was up at 9:00 a.m., feeling a million times better. Her energy had increased with more of Regina’s home cooking, and her spirits lightened with Sophie’s company. Though she still needed her pain meds, she’d worked up the energy to follow Genevieve around to make up for the days she’d been unwell, taking breaks as needed. This morning, she even put on some makeup and a little bit of lip gloss, and she looked forward to leaving the house, even if it was for her follow-up doctor’s appointment.

  Most importantly, she couldn’t wait to celebrate her daughter’s birthday, even if it would be an intimate affair.

  Adelaide entered her walk-in closet. She reached up to the topmost shelf, croaking from the anticipation of pain, and grabbed a hatbox. She opened it to a teddy bear smooshed to fit. The fibers of its fur were the softest she’d ever felt, and she’d known that her baby girl would love it. She pressed on the paw of the bear, and it spoke—with Matt’s voice.

  When she finally arrived downstairs, close to 11:00 a.m., with the bear in the hatbox, she detected a frantic energy in the air, though nothing was amiss. Sophie was on the phone in the backyard, Genevieve playing just beyond her reach, and Regina was in the kitchen.

  “Hey, look at all the food!” Adelaide looked over Regina’s shoulder.

  “Hey, mama. Since today’s a special day and you’re up and around, I thought I’d make a little extra. We can always freeze leftovers for later.”

  “You are the best! I have Genevieve’s present all ready. She can open it when I get back.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You have your appointment,” Regina stated, not looking at her.

  “Yep, at noon.” She went to the sliding glass door and knocked on the glass.

  Sophie turned and made a sign that she would bring Genevieve inside.

  “I feel really good today,” Adelaide said to Regina.

  “That’s great. Why not extend your field trip today? Take a walk after your appointment?”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Adelaide was getting a strange vibe from Regina but pushed it away. Whenever the woman cooked, she was in her own world. “I’ll wait for Sophie in the living room. Might as well check emails.”

  She sat down in the small office area in the living room and opened her laptop. It had been almost a week since she’d been online; she could just imagine the notifications on social media and unread emails.

  She logged into her email first. One was from Missy Stanfield, one of her mommy friends. She was a real estate agent and Adelaide had staged a few homes for her, just for fun.

  Subject: What do you think?

  Hi Adelaide!

  I know you’re tied up with your surgery, and I sure hope I’m not bothering you while in the midst of recovering. Because if I am, then by all means you have to get off this email now, young lady. But if and when you are up to it, I’d love to follow up about what we discussed earlier, about you maybe working for me part-time? You were the first person I thought of. Give me a buzz whenever? I promise to only take a few minutes of your time! I still do want to stop by to bring over a present for Genevieve like I mentioned last week. I know you’ve got your best friends there, but I bet they can’t make my cream puffs. I’m just saying!

  xo,

  Missy

  Adelaide laughed. Missy always had a way about her. She didn’t hide her ambition, and with her, Adelaide felt creative and energized. Unfortunately, Adelaide was also going to have to disappoint her. It didn’t make sense for Adelaide to accept a job knowing she would eventually have to let it go. They were due to move after Matt returned from Germany, and preparing for a PCS was a full-time job.

  At the thought, Adelaide’s chest ached with what felt like heartburn. Her next thought was to shut down her negativity. Moving was an inevitability in the Army. But dang, did she love it here in Old Town. It was a nice change from all the small posts they’d lived in. She felt at home in the DC metro area, more than other places. In Old Town, she felt like she could blossom.

  Was it normal to feel so young in your midthirties? She was just starting to feel good in her skin. Having to start somewhere new always put her on the outskirts, and with that came insecurity, over proving herself to others and sometimes to herself. And unless she knew someone from another duty station, making friends, even for an extrovert such as herself, was hard. It wasn’t the superficial meet-and-greet moments that she worried about, but the tearing down of her walls, and the exposure of herself that rendered her vulnerable.

  Would she allow herself to get close to people this next time around? How much investment would she put into this community before having to pick up and start over elsewhere? It was a fuzzy line to toe.

  She just wished sometimes…

  She cut out the thought before it came to fruition. And instead, she pressed reply:

  Hi Missy,

  I’m doing well, thank you. But one of these days I’m going to have to tell you the entire surgical ordeal. I would love to see you, soon, and while I cannot have your cream puffs (much too rich for my blood, and not in a metaphorical way—my lack of a gallbladder means my belly just won’t be able to tolerate all the delicious cream for a little while), I do want you to come over soon! As for the job offer… I’d like to chat about it in person.

  Best,

  Adelaide

  Her reply came quickly:

  I bet we’ll chat later. ;) Talk to you soon!

  M.

  Adelaide pondered Missy’s odd response.

  The sound of fast-moving footsteps took her attention, and at the sight of her beautiful daughter entering the room, the rest of the world shrank in importance. Adelaide opened her arms to greet Genevieve, and her baby girl rushed into her arms. Genevieve felt bigger, heavier, and it sparked a sad nostalgia of time passin
g much too quickly for her taste. “Hello. Do you know what today is?”

  Genevieve giggled, a little bit of drool pooling on the sides of her lips. “My birthday!”

  “Yes, it is! Mommy just needs to go somewhere with Auntie Sophie, then I’ll be back and we can have cake.”

  “Cake! Mr. Henry!”

  “What?” She half laughed and looked up to her friends, who hovered by the living room doorway.

  “Is that his name?” Sophie turned to Regina.

  “Okay, okay, so I kind of showed her their Instagram feed.” Regina tapped on her watch. “But more on that later. You all should go.”

  “Yep. You’re right. Thank you.” Adelaide heaved herself off the couch.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Lemme get that!” Regina jumped and spun away.

  Once alone, Adelaide said quietly, “What the heck’s up her butt? She’s being really weird.”

  Sophie cackled.

  That, too, was weird.

  From the door came the sound of a man’s deep voice, then the shuffle of feet. A figure appeared at the doorway, a person so familiar, though Adelaide could not place him. He was Black, in his forties. Fit. Clean-shaven and bald. He was wearing jeans and a gray long-sleeved Henley. He carried a small gift bag with one hand, and held a small plant in the other. A cactus.

  Next to Adelaide, Sophie breathed out his name. “Jasper.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Sophie

  “What are you doing here, Jasper?” Sophie asked after she kissed him on the cheek. He’d handed her the cactus, and she gripped the side of the pot with force.

  Was she dreaming?

  “Now, if that isn’t a welcome, I don’t know what is,” he said, face crestfallen. He turned to his left. “Adelaide.”

  Adelaide hugged Jasper. “Oh my God, I didn’t recognize you right off the bat. Talk about a blast from the past. Matt’s going to be so jealous when I tell him. Anyway”—she bent down and directed her daughter by the shoulders—“we’re going to leave you two for a few minutes to catch up.”

  “Wait a sec.” He stopped at seeing Genevieve. “Is this the little one?”

  Sophie made introductions. “Yes, this is Genevieve. This is Mr. Jasper, my…”

  She tripped up at how she should describe him. Husband, according to civil laws. Still simply a boyfriend according to the Army. To adults she introduced him as her partner, but to a two-year-old?

  “I’m her baby daddy,” he jumped in.

  “Jasper!” She nudged him playfully with an elbow.

  “It’s true, isn’t it? Well, this is for you, Miss Genevieve. Happy birthday.” He bent down and handed her the gift bag.

  “That’s so sweet of you Jasper,” Adelaide said. “Isn’t it, Sophie?”

  Sophie, still in shock, caught up after a beat. Jasper really was here. “Yes. So sweet.”

  “You’re talking to a father of two girls who expected gifts whenever I came home from out of town. I knew not to arrive empty-handed.”

  “You’ve got ten minutes,” Regina said stiffly. “Before Adelaide’s appointment. Remember?”

  Sophie nodded and watched the three go.

  Jasper dipped his chin. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

  His expression sent a twinge of regret through Sophie’s heart, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m just surprised. Shocked.” Belatedly, her body sprang awake, and she leaned in to hug him again. She felt his body soften toward hers.

  “I was shocked, too, to receive your note,” he said. “But I got here as soon as I could.”

  “Which note?”

  “The one where you asked me to come.”

  She pulled away from him. “I did what?”

  He frowned. “You sent me a letter, for me to come. Then Carmela insisted that I bring you a plant. She told me you had fallen in love with cacti so I picked one up at the garden center right off of I-95.”

  Carmela.

  She threw her head back in laughter. “Did you send me a cactus in the mail?”

  “No. Why would I do that?” Jasper read her expression. “Did she… Were we just tricked?”

  “I think we were.” She sighed and gestured to the couch and sat next to him. She was surprised to find her heart trilling like a hummingbird. She was nervous. “That daughter of ours.”

  “I think she’s worried about us. And I don’t blame her. I’m worried about us.” He shook his head, his fingers linked tightly together. “The sporadic texts. The avoidance. Even that kiss. It didn’t feel… I don’t know…”

  A flash of what their real kisses had been like popped into Sophie’s head. They’d started with a yearning in her gut that would spill out into an insatiable need. She couldn’t get enough of him. But in the last few months, she hadn’t been able to put her finger on this sadness she felt—nor could she remember the last time she’d kissed him with the same fervor.

  “Sophie, I remember a time when we used to greet each other at the door. Something was there, between us. An excitement.”

  She sniffed a rebuttal, then said, “It wasn’t always so easy for me to greet you at the door, because you left more often, and for longer chunks of time. I’m not saying you didn’t make your own sacrifices, but being the one left behind was tough.”

  “It wasn’t fair, I know.”

  “It wasn’t about being fair—you’re getting it wrong.” She took a breath. “To be honest, I kind of enjoyed when you were gone. Not because I didn’t miss you, but because I was able to become who I wanted to be. It was only me, and my schedule, and the girls. When you were gone, I took my dreams and my goals and ran with them. Even after we left Millersville and you stayed on active duty, I was fine with it. But now, with retirement, it just feels different. I loved our life, but now I wonder how much more there is out there.”

  “Oh, Sophie.” Tears sprang to his eyes.

  “I love you, Jasper. With all my heart. We never needed a ring or a piece of paper. I love you, and I know you love me. But I feel restless, and with you getting the job you always wanted… God, I am so proud of you—”

  “But it all doesn’t mean a thing without you.”

  She offered her hand then, and he took it. She padded her finger across his knuckles, and her heart was speared with pain. This man was crying, and the only other time he had ever cried was when their twins were born. He had bawled the moment they were brought to the warmers and intermittently until they were discharged from the hospital.

  The truth dawned on Sophie. She’d worried him. She’d hurt him while she was in her own head. “This crossroads took me by surprise. I didn’t know what to do with all this stuff in my head and in my chest, and when this opportunity came up, to help with Adelaide, the only thing I wanted to do was to get some space, to think.”

  “And now that you have? Thought, I mean. What do you want to do?” he asked.

  “I… don’t know. But I have loved being away. This week, and looking back at our life, your career especially, I realized I loved learning about new places. I really liked to travel. Now that the girls are months from college, and you’re also done with the Army, the load on my shoulders has lifted. We were so good, Jasper. Good all the way through. On the narrow road of parenting. We hovered over those girls. We gave them the best example. And now I want to be bad. I want to be spontaneous, run away sometimes. I just didn’t realize it until I got here.”

  “Sophie, if you want me to quit this job, I will.”

  She shook her head. “We’ve always done what we wanted in our hearts. This isn’t even an ultimatum.”

  Jasper tugged her hand. “Just as you have done for me, I go where you go, Soph. Bad or good, temporary or permanent. Overseas or here. We will work it out. If you still want me.”

  “I have never not wanted you,” she said. “This was never about not loving you or wanting you or needing you. I’m sorry, Jasper.”

  He looked down for a beat. “I admit, I was real
ly mad you left for this trip. Then, the more I thought about it, I remembered that there were nights when I lived like a bachelor, without having to make sure that our girls were okay. My trips and my deployments put you in a situation where you had to do it all. You’ve had to face a lot of decisions on your own. The least I could do was to give you space to think, even if it was killing me.”

  “Thank you for saying that.”

  He nodded. “But, Soph, do you remember what I told Carmela that one time she ran away from her classroom when she was five?”

  Sophie thought back, pre-Millersville, to her kindergarten girls, who had been separated into two different classes. Carmela had been upset by the arrangement. One day, she simply walked out of the classroom when her teacher’s back was turned, marched to Olivia’s classroom, and demanded to be let in. “You said she could go anywhere she wanted. She just needed to tell someone.” She eyed Jasper. “But I did tell you.”

  He considered her a moment. “Sophie, we only made a couple of promises to each other. We said that we would always talk to each other, and that we would tell each other what we needed. We can’t go back on those promises.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Humbled, it was her turn for tears—he was right. Their vow was simply based on a promise of communication. Nothing more, nothing less. And despite her own transition, there he was, supporting her need to figure out who she was in this second half of her life. He’d understood that her leaving was never about running from her responsibilities. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He tilted her chin up, gazed intently into her eyes. “Always, Sophie. Before children, after children, young, middle, and old age. Through all the changes.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips, and the need that Sophie had thought had disappeared rose from inside her. It surged through her body, and she felt every bit of his love to the tips of her fingers and toes.