Take Me Home for Christmas

21

With a master bed and bath upstairs, and a bedroom with bath, a small kitchen, a living room, mudroom and laundry area downstairs, Ted’s guesthouse was tiny compared to what Sophia was used to. It was no more than eight hundred square feet. But she was thrilled to have furniture—and heat—again.

Exhausted from so many sleepless nights, the stress of starting a new job, the worry over Alexa’s situation at school and hauling box after box through Ted’s side yard and into his guesthouse, Sophia dropped onto her new bed. He’d helped her by carrying in the heaviest boxes, but then he’d left her to finish on her own so he could work.

Now she was alone, and it felt like heaven to lie down somewhere that didn’t remind her of Skip. Somewhere that felt safe. Somewhere no one would expect to find her. She had to walk over to Ted’s house and get to work now. It wasn’t fair to him that the move had taken up more than half their day. He’d already had to warm up the leftover soup for his lunch. But she needed a few minutes to rest.

She was so tired....

Settling beneath the goose-down comforter on the bed, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She wished she could hide out here forever. But before she could drift off, she made herself get up. She couldn’t show her gratitude to Ted by falling asleep when she was supposed to be cleaning his house.

Dragging her tired body from the bed, she patted her cheeks to try to revive herself and hurried downstairs. She was going to like the cozy guesthouse. Sheltered from the road by Ted’s much larger house—not that many people came out this way—it was new and smelled of the pine planks that’d been used for the ceilings. And the scenery! On one side she had a magnificent view of the river, on the other a more than decent view of his yard, pool and Jacuzzi.

Sophia entered his house via a small walkway of stone steps. That wasn’t the main back door. The main back door led into the living room off an expansive deck one floor above. But this allowed her quick and easy access to the kitchen.

She could see that Ted had set his soup bowl in the sink, noticed he’d left out a bag of chips and felt her stomach growl. She needed to eat. She wasn’t getting enough nourishment these days.

She made herself a sandwich and sat down to flip through the cookbook she’d used before, hoping to find a good recipe for pasta. Ted had said he wanted that for dinner today. She’d made spaghetti and fettuccine for Skip many times, but she felt like a completely different person now than she had a month ago and didn’t want to return to the past, even to create a meal she was familiar with.

Noise in the hall caused her to glance up. Ted appeared, carrying his coffee cup. “I need another jolt of caffeine,” he explained.

She put her sandwich on her plate and got to her feet. “I’ll make it.”

He waved her aside. “Eat. That’s the first thing I’ve seen you put in your mouth since you started here. I don’t want to interrupt.”

“But I feel responsible for the fact that you’re so tired, and it makes me feel bad when you’ve been so...kind to me.”

He turned to look at her as if she’d surprised him somehow, and she wished she’d consulted a mirror before hurrying over to the main house. She’d seen the dark circles under her eyes this morning. Hopefully, they were less noticeable in this light.

“What?” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“Nothing. It was my decision to stay last night. Don’t worry about it.”

“But you wouldn’t have done it if you’d thought you could leave.”

“I’ll survive.”

She went back to the table but was suddenly too nervous to eat her sandwich. She didn’t want to be a burden on him, didn’t want him to regret the kindness that had saddled him with an ex he’d rather not even see.

“How’s the book coming?”

“Not so good.”

He’d probably be getting more done if he didn’t have so many distractions—like taking in a woman and child who might’ve been homeless without him. “I’ll be careful not to interrupt you this afternoon.”

He didn’t say anything.

“While I have you here, what do you think of this for dinner?” She showed him a picture of bowtie pasta with prosciutto, onions and peas in a Parmesan cream sauce. “Does this look like an entrée you might like?”

His eyebrows slid up. “Definitely.”

“I’ll make that tonight, then.”

Having started the coffeemaker, he turned around to face her. “I was going to talk to you about tonight.”

The gravity in his voice put her on high alert. “You’d rather have something else?”

“No, that’s fine. Could you make enough for Eve, too?”

She managed to maintain her smile. “Of course. Is this a—a date? Would you like me to do something special?”

“You don’t have to go to too much trouble. Just add a bottle of wine, a salad and maybe some dessert.”

She’d already been planning to serve a salad and bread with the main meal. “I can do that. I’ll set it up in the dining room.”

“That’d be great.”

She pointed to the coffeemaker. “You don’t have to wait. I’ll bring you a cup when it’s ready, if that’ll help.”

“I’d appreciate it.” He walked away but turned back at the last second. “Why’d you do it?” he asked. “Why’d you sleep with Skip?”

This was the first time he’d ever given her the opportunity to explain. But now that he had, she didn’t know where to begin. What did it matter, anyway? What could she hope to achieve? She could tell by his tone that, all these years later, he was still speaking out of condemnation and anger. And after the kindness Eve had shown her, Sophia wouldn’t interfere in their relationship even if she had the chance. “I made a mistake.”

“One you made worse by marrying him.”

It wasn’t easy to tolerate the accusation in his eyes, not without launching a few accusations of her own. She wasn’t the only one who’d been egocentric at that age. He’d been so preoccupied with all his projects and classes that he hadn’t paid much attention to what was happening—or not happening—in her world. He’d taken it for granted that when he finished setting the world on fire she’d be waiting for him in Whiskey Creek. “I was pregnant. I didn’t have any other choice.”

“Your parents would’ve helped you. They did everything for you.”

Not after he went to college. And especially not in that last year when he’d been so busy they’d barely talked. Once her mother could no longer hang on to reality, her father hadn’t been able to cope with the grief. He’d stepped down from his position as mayor and promptly fallen apart, and without any new money coming in, their savings had dwindled. They managed to get her mother into a facility where the state would pick up the bill, but almost as soon as they did that, her father received news of his own diagnosis. Although they’d been too proud to let anyone know the extent of their problems—it hurt to be humbled in one fell swoop—she couldn’t have afforded the chemo or anything else, not without Skip. “I panicked.”

“You mean Skip had the money you wanted.”

The money she’d desperately needed. There was a difference. And Skip was the father of her child. Was Ted saying he would’ve accepted Alexa? She couldn’t imagine that—couldn’t imagine him forgiving her for what she’d done. “If that’s how you want to look at it,” she said.

“There isn’t any other way,” he retorted.

When the doorbell sounded signifying Eve’s arrival, Ted wasn’t sure where Sophia was. She didn’t answer the door, so he assumed she’d left for the day. She was probably in the guesthouse, unpacking. The last time he’d seen her was when she’d slipped into his office, put a cup of coffee at his elbow, along with some sliced fruit, and slipped out.

It had been a quiet afternoon, which he’d needed to get some pages written. But as he passed the living room on his way to the door, he saw that she’d been busy. Every room in the house was immaculate. He could smell several delectable scents drifting from the kitchen, and she’d set a beautiful table. He paused when he saw it because he didn’t recognize the pretty crystal vase that served as a centerpiece or the fresh flowers inside it. Neither had he ever seen the matching candleholders. And he knew for a fact that he didn’t own those elegant dinner candles.

She’d gone to extra trouble to make this romantic—but he wasn’t sure that made him happy. He had such mixed reactions when it came to her.

The doorbell sounded again.

“Coming,” he called.

As soon as he opened the door, Eve gestured toward Sophia’s black Mercedes. “Looks like your houseguest will be spending her first night here.”

He wondered how things had gone for Alexa at school today. When Sophia picked her up, she must’ve had her go straight to the guesthouse to do her homework because he hadn’t seen or heard her at all. “I can only hope that’ll make it harder for the repo company to find her car.”

“Right. Or she’ll be using your car as well as enjoying everything else you have to offer.”

He didn’t say anything. He hadn’t asked for Sophia to land in his lap—at least not in a long time. But there hadn’t been any way to avoid helping her, not if he wanted to maintain his humanity. “Believe me, my mother isn’t any happier about the situation than you are. She hung up on me the day she learned Sophia was working here, and I haven’t spoken to her since.”

“Aren’t you going to call her?”

“I’m giving her some time to cool off.” He held the door. “Come on in.”

“Your mother’s never liked Sophia,” she said as she passed him.

“My mother likes you,” he told her.

Her lips curved in a grudging smile. “That’s an accomplishment. She’s not easy to please.”

“That’s an understatement.” He chuckled. “Are you hungry? I requested pasta.”

“Smells delicious.” She drew him to her for a kiss. He purposely deepened it, searching for that same fire in his belly he’d always felt for Sophia, wanted it to consume him to the point that he had to carry her up to his bedroom right this second, dinner be damned. But it wasn’t there. He felt the same respect and affection he’d always felt—that was all.

Pulling away, he smiled to conceal his disappointment. “Come see what we’ve got,” he said and took her hand as he led her to the kitchen.

On the counter, he found a note from Sophia.

Pasta is in the oven. Don’t wait too long to serve it, or it will dry out. Warm the bread for 15 minutes first. Wine is chilling in the fridge with the salad. Homemade vinaigrette is in the small pitcher. The cheesecake can be served with or without berries on top.

S

P.S. Matches on table

For the candles. To add to the romantic atmosphere. He got that.

“She’s gone to a lot of trouble to make it nice.” Eve sounded slightly petulant, but she was the one who’d asked to come here. They could just as easily have had dinner out or at her place. Ted was fairly certain she’d wanted to scope out the situation, to stake her claim—not that he could blame her.

He was carrying the salad and wine into the dining room when the doorbell rang for the second time in fifteen minutes.

“I’ll get it,” Eve said and before he could return to the kitchen for the bread, his mother walked into the room.

Sophia had brought some of what she’d cooked home so she could have dinner with Alexa in the guesthouse. They’d eaten together. Now they were lying on her bed, staring at the shadows the lamp cast on the ceiling. They still had unpacking to do, but this quiet moment was the best she’d had all day. Alexa never used to rest her head on Sophia’s shoulder when Skip was alive, not since she’d been a very small child.

“That was such a good dinner,” Alexa said.

“I liked it, too,” Sophia responded.

“I bet Ted thinks you’re the best cook in the world. I bet he’s glad he hired you.”

Had Ted and Eve enjoyed it? They’d been in the back of her mind ever since she’d left the main house. But she refused to succumb to the jealousy that slithered beneath her skin. She’d spent her own money at the grocery store for the flowers and candles because she’d wanted, in her own small way, to thank them for all they’d done. She wanted Ted to be happy and knew a woman like Eve could do that for him.

So she had nothing to feel sad about, she told herself. She wanted Eve to be happy, too. Maybe she couldn’t have the relationship she wanted—with either one of them—but she wished them well in spite of that and owed them both for their kindness.

“How come you’ve never made those noodles before?” Alexa asked, breaking the silence again.

“You mean the pasta? I didn’t have that recipe.”

“Don’t lose it.”

“I won’t.” She combed her fingers through her daughter’s hair. “Do you think you’ll like living here?”

“It’ll be different, but...it’s okay. What about you?”

“It has a lot going for it. It’s nice and cozy and clean.”

Alexa raised her head. “You’re getting better at looking on the bright side.”

Sophia laughed. She was afraid to look anywhere else. “You didn’t say much about your day at school.”

“I told you it was okay.”

“I know. But...what does ‘okay’ mean?”

Her daughter shifted onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows. “That nothing’s changed.”

“What about detention?”

“Boring!”

“At least you got your homework done while you were there.” As wrung out as Sophia was, she was grateful for that. “Connie didn’t give you any trouble?”

Lex plucked at the comforter. “She kept glaring at me. And once, when she passed by to get a book from the back of the room, she whispered that she’d kick my you know what if she ever got me alone.”

Sophia adjusted the pillow to make it higher. “What did you do?”

“I ignored her.”

“Good for you!” She reached out to stroke her daughter’s cheek. “What about Babette and the others?”

“I do my best to ignore them, too.” Alexa suddenly gave her a shy smile. “There was one good thing that happened today.”

“You got a C on your math quiz. I consider that good, since it’s an improvement. Next time you’ll get a B, right?”

“Right. But this is even better.”

“Really? Then I can hardly wait to hear about it.”

An endearing expression appeared on her pixie face. “Royce Beck walked me to my fifth-period class.”

“Royce... I’ve heard that name before.”

“Because he came to my birthday party last year.”

“I hope his dad wasn’t an SLD investor.”

Alexa winced but laughed. “So do I! I don’t think he was. At least, Royce didn’t act mad, like everyone else.”

“Sounds as if this boy is somehow special to you.”

There was a slight pause as well as another blush.

Despite enjoying this time with Alexa, and the relief of seeing her daughter slowly returning to her former spirits, Sophia was so tired. Sleep seemed to be washing up around her ankles like a warm surf, pulling at her. But she didn’t want to fade out on Alexa, so she fought the heaviness of her eyelids. “Well, if he has any taste, he’ll like you back.”

“Maybe not.” Her smile grew pensive. “He might choose Babette now that...now that everyone thinks she’s so hot.”

That gave Sophia a shot of energy. “Don’t tell me she likes him, too!”

“She always likes the same boys I do,” Alexa said with a grimace.

That meant her daughter was still setting the standards. “Did she see him walk you to class?”

“Yes. She walked past us on the way.”

“I doubt that’ll help your friendship.”

Alexa rolled her eyes. “What friendship?”

Feeling her exhaustion return, Sophia covered a yawn. “Where do you think we should move?”

“What about Los Angeles?”

“You want to live in a bustling city?”

She pursed her lips, considering. “It would be close to Disneyland.”

Sophia smiled. They could use a trip to “the happiest place on earth.” She took Lex’s hand for a moment. “That’s a plus, but L.A. is such a big place. Feels to me as if we might get lost.”

“But doesn’t getting lost sound kind of nice? At least no one would know Dad or what he did.”

“True. That’s a definite benefit. And there’d have to be more job opportunities....”

“Do you like the job you have now?”

Surprisingly, Sophia did. Although she missed the massages and spa treatments of her former life, the sense of accomplishment she got when she looked around Ted’s house more than made up for the lack of pampering. She just didn’t like feeling so indebted to Ted, hated that they couldn’t be on an equal footing. And it had cost her Eve. Tonight was proof. She’d thought maybe Eve would come to the guesthouse and tell her she’d enjoyed dinner, at least acknowledge her proximity. She would’ve liked to know that Eve didn’t resent her presence on Ted’s property. But Sophia talked with Alexa for another hour before they went to bed, and there was no knock or call.

It’s okay, she told herself. She can’t be glad I’m here. What woman would be?

Why’d you sleep with Skip? The disgust in Ted’s words chafed even in retrospect. He couldn’t be glad she was here, either.

The wine cellar and the bottles of liquor he stored there came to mind. Alexa was in her own bed; they were in a safe place. Surely, she could have a drink now. She’d been so immersed in her troubles that she’d scarcely thought about booze for days. But the memory of the smooth burn of whiskey as it went down and the rush of euphoria that came after suddenly grabbed hold of her and nearly dragged her to the door.

One drink. She was alone, didn’t need to drive, didn’t need to answer to Skip, didn’t need to do anything for her daughter.

It couldn’t hurt to have a drink occasionally. Lots of people did that and it caused them no problems.

She got up and started down the stairs. She could cross the backyard, slip into the kitchen and sneak out a bottle in a matter of minutes. Ted and Eve would never be the wiser. She’d pay for it out of her first paycheck. She wasn’t a thief like her husband had been.

But the memory of Skip’s words brought her to a halt before she could even get out of the guesthouse. You’re nothing but a lazy drunk.

“No, Skip, I’m a lot more than that,” she whispered.

Talk was cheap, however. She had to prove it.

Even though her mouth was dry and her head ached—for some odd reason she felt as though she was going through withdrawal all over again—she went back to bed and forced herself to lie there.

She’d been so exhausted just minutes before. But the alcohol in Ted’s cellar seemed to be calling out to her: I’m right here. Come and get me!

Why wouldn’t the temptation release her so she could sleep?

You can do it. Stay put. You’re building a new life, brick by brick. Having a drink will only set you back.

She needed to join AA, she decided. Skip wouldn’t have allowed it if he were alive. He would’ve been too afraid someone would find out—or recognize her at the meeting. She certainly didn’t need to give the people of Whiskey Creek any more reason to malign her. But wasn’t what she turned out to be more important than what she used to be?