Take Me Home for Christmas

10

“I’m stunned that you’ve agreed!”

With a grimace at Eve’s reaction, which he considered a bit over the top, Ted pivoted at the window and headed back across his living room. He’d been pacing ever since he’d returned home. And although it was approaching midnight, too late to be calling someone even on a weekend, he’d broken down and called Eve.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said. “I’m not completely heartless.”

Just crazy. What had happened to his conviction? He’d told himself he would never have another thing to do with Sophia. He’d already forgiven her once, when he’d taken her back after Scott’s death. She’d come to him in tears, insisting that she still wanted to be with him, that he was the only boy she’d ever love. And he’d stood by her despite the negative reaction of almost everyone else in town. So what did she do after that? She proved her love by getting pregnant while he was away at school and marrying the other guy.

Yet here he was, suggesting she call him about his housekeeper position, even though he’d removed the ad from Craigslist for fear she’d apply!

His mother was going to have a fit. He felt a little guilty about that, since she’d always been such a standout mom. His father had never taken much interest; he’d been too involved with his second family. That made Ted feel he owed the parent who’d stuck by him more than a normal kid would owe his mother. But he insisted on making his own decisions, especially about this, even if it proved to be a mistake.

“What changed your mind?” Eve asked. “You haven’t had anything nice to say about Sophia in years.”

“I’m not saying anything nice about her now,” he clarified. “I barely know her anymore. I just... I can’t imagine how she’ll ever get back on her feet without some help. And I don’t see Skip’s parents or anyone else taking pity on her.”

“Ugh, if only you knew how badly they were treating her,” Eve said. “I’d give you details, but I feel like that would somehow be...breaking a confidence.”

Her comment irritated him because it suggested she had strong loyalties to Sophia, when he was the one who’d hung out with Eve since grade school. “Suddenly you’re better friends with her than you are me?”

“No! Of course not. But she’s vulnerable right now, fragile. And you...you have everything under control. Let’s face it. No one manages life—or anything else—quite as well as you do.”

“It’s because of that inflexibility you tease me about,” he said dryly.

She laughed. “It is! But that inflexibility could also be called self-discipline. You’ve always been the overachiever in the group.”

“Stop trying to appeal to my vanity. You’re throwing me over for Sophia.”

“I am not!” she said. “But I don’t mind telling you that what you’re offering her is really wonderful. You should’ve seen her tonight while everyone was rummaging through her house.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the details. It’d been difficult enough to watch it from outside. But he couldn’t help asking, “Was she crying?”

“No. I wish she had been. Crying would’ve been a normal reaction to sadness and pain. Crying is how most people cope with disappointment. But what she’s suffering goes deeper than that. She’s depressed. Numb. Completely lost. She sat on the back steps, smoking a cigarette, believe it or not, and staring off into space. She didn’t try to protect any of her possessions, even the ones with sentimental value.”

He felt a tightness in his chest, which he didn’t want to acknowledge, and opened his mouth to bring the conversation back to the practical—the details of the job—but she kept talking.

“You know what they say about people who lose all their belongings in a fire.”

That distracted him. “No. What do they say?”

“It’s one of the most catastrophic things that can happen to a person. One minute her house looked like she was used to seeing it, the next almost everything was gone.”

Including her husband, he thought. He wondered if she missed Skip, if she’d loved him—although he couldn’t understand how anyone could care too deeply about such a pompous ass.

“The people who came were like locusts,” Eve was saying. “They took practically everything.”

“You didn’t put a stop to it?”

“Eventually. I wish I’d acted sooner. I just... I don’t know her all that well, so I didn’t think it was my place until you sent me that text. Then I got mad at myself for not standing at the door and refusing to let them enter in the first place.”

He remembered his brief exchange with Chief Stacy. “It’s a difficult situation. They felt justified in what they were doing.”

“I heard one person say, ‘I paid for it, why shouldn’t I have it?’”

“They’re happy to see her deprived of all the things they’ve envied.”

“I guess. It sucked—that’s all I know.”

“So when did she start smoking?” He couldn’t recall Sophia ever having a cigarette. They’d certainly never smoked when they were younger.

“I guess she started tonight,” Eve said. “She made me stop at the Gas-N-Go on our way to the house. When she came out toting a carton of cigarettes, I asked her why, and she said, ‘Because I can’t drink.’ She began to add that she hoped they’d kill her and put her out of her misery but when she saw my reaction, she clammed up.”

“Why can’t she drink?”

There was a slight hesitation. “Um...I didn’t ask.”

“Well, she can’t smoke in my house.” He hated the smell. He was willing to provide employment so she could get over this rough patch, but he planned to keep everything very professional. There’d be no allowances.

“She won’t. She’ll do everything she can to make you happy.” She groaned. “God, I’m so relieved. Before you called, I was sitting here going over my books, trying to figure out a way to hire her at the B and B. But...it’s just not in my budget to add another employee, especially going into the off season.”

“She can start on Monday if she wants. If she’s not ready, it can wait until later in the week or the following Monday.”

“Judging by the state of her cupboards, I think she needs to start as soon as possible.”

“Don’t tell me they carted off her food, too!”

“She didn’t have much to begin with.”

“Shit.” He could already feel the situation getting stickier than he’d bargained for.

“But now everything’s going to be okay.” She laughed. “You’re such a softie, you know that?”

“Don’t let it get out. I can only take on one charity case at a time.”

“She’d hate to hear you say that.”

He heard the displeasure in her voice. “She won’t hear it, because you won’t tell her.”

“Is that the only reason you’re giving her a hand? For the sake of helping someone who’s going through a rough time?”

“Of course,” he snapped, irritated again. “Why else would I be doing it?”

“Sometimes I wonder if you still have feelings for her.”

His other friends wondered, too, which made what he was doing even more problematic, since he’d have to deal with their reactions. “The answer is no.”

So what if the idea of peeling off her clothes caused a visceral excitement, even after this many years? That didn’t mean anything. Lots of people harbored desire for an ex.

It was just that he hadn’t been in a relationship in forever. He needed to quit worrying about work and get back to dating. “And don’t bring that up again.”

“Got it. There will be no questioning your motives.”

“Smart ass,” he grumbled. “So do you think she can get by on $2,500 a month? It’s not a lot—pennies compared to what she’s used to.”

“But it’s the most she’ll be able to make, especially in Whiskey Creek. There aren’t many jobs.”

“Why doesn’t she move somewhere else?”

“She won’t uproot her daughter. Alexa wants to stay where it’s familiar. Where her friends are.”

“Sophia cares about that?”

“Of course! Alexa is everything to her.”

“Maybe she’s not as terrible a person as I thought.”

“Ted, stop.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I hope her salary will cover the basics. And I’ll be flexible about hours. As long as she’s not too loud while I’m trying to write, Alexa can come here after school. Sophia might as well make one dinner for all of us. They can eat before they leave. I’ll eat after they go home.”

“Heaven forbid you should ever eat together.”

He rubbed his neck. “You’re already making me regret this.”

“Don’t, because what you’re offering is more than fair. I just...I wish you could forgive her and start over—as friends. She’s different than she was.”

“Sure she is.”

“It’s true!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be perfectly polite.”

There was a slight pause, but she must’ve decided not to challenge him further. “I can’t wait to call and tell her the job I mentioned before is still available if she wants it!” Eve said. “It was so hard to leave her sitting in that empty house once I got everyone out of there. You should’ve seen Alexa’s face when she came home. She’s every bit as lost as her mother, you know. I found her crying in the cemetery yesterday.”

She’d told them at coffee, but he let her tell him again. “She just lost her father in one of the worst ways possible. Of course she’s going to cry.”

“But she wasn’t crying over her father. She was crying about her mother!”

She hadn’t made such a point of that.

He sighed. He’d justified making this call by telling himself he wouldn’t get too involved. He’d give her work. That was it. Anything beyond money for services rendered would be...foolhardy. “I’d rather not hear about it, if you don’t mind. I’m in the market for a housekeeper. I figure she can have the job until she finds something better.”

“Understood,” Eve said. “No emotional involvement.”

“Now you’ve got it.”

“So what should I say her duties will include?”

“Meals. Cleaning. Errands. Some computer work. She knows how to use a computer, doesn’t she?”

“If she doesn’t, Alexa will,” she joked. “Kids are all computer-literate these days.”

“Not funny. Alexa can’t manage what I need done.”

“Fine. I’ll tutor Sophia if I have to. Or do your secretarial stuff myself while I’m working at the B and B. I have an office with a computer off the kitchen, and I’m a hell of a typist.”

He parted the blinds to see the moonlight glinting off the river behind his house. “Why would you take that on?”

“Because I’m willing to do my part.”

“For the sake of charity?”

“It’s not quite that impersonal for me. I want to help her!”

So it was going to be okay, wasn’t it? They were both just doing a good deed.

Somehow he managed to convince himself so he could breathe a little easier. But when Sophia called him the next morning, the sound of her voice carried him right back to high school.

This wasn’t going to be a comfortable conversation. Sophia was so nervous she had butterflies in her stomach, which was silly. She was thirty-four years old! But she hadn’t had a real conversation with Ted since he’d confronted her after hearing about her engagement to Skip. He’d been so hurt and angry to learn she was pregnant that he hadn’t allowed her to say much.

She’d tried several times since then to apologize. She felt guilty for hurting him, but back then she could see no other way out of her predicament. She couldn’t get an abortion, not with her religious upbringing. She couldn’t raise a child on her own, not without a job or some way to earn a living. And she could no longer rely on her parents, who’d always been her rock, because their lives were crumbling in front of her. As much as her heart rebelled, Skip had seemed like her best option. And he was so determined to have her, so confident that she’d be making the right choice in becoming his wife.

The promises he’d made were very different from the reality, but she hadn’t known he was abusive before the wedding. She’d only known that Ted wasn’t ready for marriage and that trying to stay with him would mean asking him to accept a child who wasn’t his. Skip wouldn’t have let that happen anyway.

“Eve just called. She said—” she had to clear her throat to continue talking “—she said you have a...a possible job opportunity?” Eve claimed she’d called about the housekeeper position before, but Sophia hadn’t gotten that message. She’d never listened to the messages that had come in the first couple of weeks after Skip died; she hadn’t seen any point, since she’d expected them all to be bill collectors.

The silence stretched so long, she began to fear that Eve hadn’t left that message. Had Eve set her up? Maybe Ted hadn’t said anything about a job, and she’d called him up out of the blue. That was how little she trusted human kindness these days. But then he spoke, addressing her for the first time in years—other than a few brief comments when she’d gone to coffee with him and his friends. He preferred to ignore her if he could.

“That’s true. I’m looking for a housekeeper slash assistant. I thought you might be capable of filling the position. If you’re interested.”

Her mouth went dry. “I’m definitely interested.”

“Can you cook?”

“What kind of meals would you want me to make?”

“Nothing too complicated—healthy food that tastes good.”

“Those things don’t always go together,” she joked but he didn’t laugh. His determined reticence told her his resentment was alive and well. That hadn’t changed. So why was he bothering to help her?

“Just basic meals,” he said. “Lean meat. Vegetables. An occasional dessert.”

She used the same clipped tone he had—all business. He obviously preferred the distance that allowed them. “I can handle meals.”

“Can you clean?”

“Of course. I—I had a woman who came in once a month to do the deep cleaning—windows and cupboards and closets and such. But I did all the other stuff myself.” She bit her lip as she finished because she was afraid that had sounded as if she had something to be proud of when anyone could clean.

“You may have to do a few windows here. And closets, too—for both the main house and the guesthouse in back. There won’t be someone like Marta coming in.”

“You know Marta?”

“She applied for the position.”

“She’s good.”

“But not what I’m looking for.”

So what was he looking for?

Suddenly the thought that had come to her before, the thought she’d discarded in her hope, popped back into her mind. Was he hiring her out of spite? To lord his success over her? To take some sort of revenge?

She hated to think that might be true....

But what did it ultimately matter? She had no choice other than to accept his offer. Who else in Whiskey Creek would hire her? Before long she wouldn’t even have a car, so it wasn’t as if she could commute elsewhere. “Of course. I’ll do whatever you ask. I—I appreciate the opportunity.”

“Then we should get along fine. Do you have a laptop you can bring?”

She pressed her fingers to one temple as she remembered last night. Although he’d been at the church, which made her wonder if he’d also invested with Skip—heaven forbid—she hadn’t seen him at the house, so it was highly probable he wouldn’t know what she’d had to let go.

“I did, but...it’s gone,” she said simply. No way did she want to address how or why or even acknowledge that she’d seen him. Having him as a witness to her shame had been so humiliating that she didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it.

“That’s okay. I have one here you can use.” He sounded gruffer than a moment before, although she couldn’t identify the reason for it.

She hoped she hadn’t said anything wrong or come across as too needy. This job was the only bright spot in the past several weeks—and not just because of the money. Maybe she’d eventually have the chance to apologize to Ted. And maybe, after a while, he’d be able to forgive her, and the regret she felt would fade.

“So you know how to use one, right?” he clarified.

“I’m probably not your best bet on the clerical side,” she admitted. “I have no experience there. But I can learn. I’m a fast learner.” She wasn’t sure why she added that. Desperation, she supposed.

“Can you write a decent email? That’s not quite as easy to teach.”

“I should be able to. I’m not stupid.” Maybe he thought she was. She didn’t have a college education, like him.

“Then we’ll give it a shot,” he said. “When would you like to start?”

A shot? That didn’t sound too definite. “Eve said something about Monday.”

“Monday is Halloween. But you can take off early if you need to.”

Alexa hadn’t mentioned having Halloween plans, but Sophia figured she should be prepared, just in case. “Thanks. I’ll work until three.”

“Okay. Come here as soon as you get your daughter off to school. What time will that be?”

“We leave the house at seven-thirty.”

“Eight, then?”

“That should be fine.”

“See you Monday.”

She hurried to catch him before he could hang up. “There’s one more thing....”

“What is it?”

“A clarification, actually. Eve said Lex can come to your place after school until I get off work. Is that true?”

“It is. You can have dinner here so you only have to make it once.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Not a problem.”

Her brain conjured up the memory that came to her whenever she saw him—at coffee or even in town. It was of Ted during his first trip home from college. They hadn’t seen each other for almost a month and could hardly breathe, they were so eager to touch, to kiss, to get naked. She’d never had a more exciting sexual encounter than when he’d taken her directly to the shack. She could still feel the pressure of him, pinning her to the old mattress they’d brought there months before.

“Sophia?”

She gripped the phone more tightly. “What?”

“Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you.” She had to forget about that night and all the other times they’d been together, she told herself. She couldn’t blow this opportunity, or Skip and what he’d done would destroy her yet.