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Sophie was flabbergasted that Roger had the nerve to ask her to take care of his pug while he went on his honeymoon with wife number two. “I’m so busy, and I know the dog has separation anxiety, so why don’t you ask Malcolm?”
Roger cocked his head. “He lives with you.”
“I know that, but I’d rather he take responsibility and not me,” Sophie said.
“Alright, I’ll ask Malcolm. Did he tell you he’s agreed to be my best man?” Roger said.
"No, but that's fitting. I would think you'd want your adult son to stand up for you. A customer needs me, but good luck and congratulations.”
Sophie walked down the length of the bar as quickly as possible without looking like she was running from a fire. The man with the full glass, when he ordered a half, was still there.
“I’m not going to charge you for that. I was distracted, and I apologize,” Sophie said. “That was my ex-husband asking me to dog-sit while he goes on his honeymoon with his new wife.”
“Congratulations on the divorce,” the man’s wife said. “He seems like a real zero.” She looked at her husband. “Pay her and tip her well.”
“Yes, dear,” he said, and they left.
Sophie would have broken down in tears if not for the nice couple. Roger had left, too, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She and Roger didn’t have a lot when they married, so the ceremony was held in her parent's yard. Her father walking her down the aisle was one of the most special moments of the evening. It was an evening full of love, and they stayed in a fancy hotel for one night for their honeymoon.
Now, she worked at a wine bar in Hempstead, New York, and she hadn’t had a date since Roger. The worst part was that she was forty-nine, and there was no change on the horizon. She had been well taken care of in the divorce and banked a lot when Roger bought her out of the brownstone. A huge portion of that went into buying a house, and the rest was for the years to come. Sophie had a fear of begging on the street corner at eighty.
“Why don’t you get out of here, Sophie? The rush is over, and I’ll clean up.” Clive said. He owned the wine bar and was an old friend from high school.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Absolutely. I got this,” he said with a smile.
Sophie checked her messages when she got in her car. The first one was from Nora Gladstone, her lawyer who helped settle her father's estate.
“Sophie, it’s Nora from Wesson & Gladstone. I need to speak with you in person. It needs to be in the next couple of days, and I’d like you to come alone. I can’t deal with this over the phone because it’s highly sensitive. Call me, and we can set something up. I’m in court tomorrow, so it will have to wait a day. Call me.”
Sophie listened to the message several times because it didn’t make much sense. Her father had left a fairly straightforward will in which Vera received almost everything. Sophie got some stocks and a little money. The will hadn’t been contested as far as she knew. She couldn’t figure out what was going on, and she’d have to wait until the morning to find anything out.
The next voice coming out of her phone was like a salve after a long, not-so-great day.
“Are you still at work? Of course, you are. I’m picking you up at nine for Pilates. We’ll get coffee on the way, and you can tell me what’s going on in that boring little life of yours. You deserve better, Sofia. You’re becoming a hermit in that house of yours. What are you saving your money for – live a little. I love you, girl.”
Sophie put down her phone and smiled. Nina’s messages were always rambling and welcome. She met Nina when they were lifeguards on Jones Beach. Sophie was nineteen, and Nina was twenty-one. They hit it off immediately and have been besties ever since.
On the day they met, Nina told Sophie that her goal for the summer was to find a husband. She preferred someone who was on track to be a doctor or lawyer, and she didn’t like facial hair. She said it made a man seem like he was hiding something. At twenty-one, she had to get moving, Nina said, because she wanted three children, and her wish would be for two girls and a boy. She insisted that a girl needed a sister more than a boy needed a brother. Sophie wasn’t sure about that theory.
By summer's end, she was dating Zeth Marks, who was a medical student. He had a mustache when they met, but it was gone within a week of their dating. Zeth was one of the country’s leading oncology researchers. They had three kids – two girls and a boy.
Sophie was never jealous but always in awe. Nina had it all and didn’t take one thing for granted. She was like a sister to Sophie, which was something she always wished she had.
3
Everything had been unloaded from Malcolm’s truck before Nina swung by, and Sophie had to make her way through the maze of boxes to make it to her bedroom or the bathroom.
“I promise you that it won’t be this way forever,” Malcolm said.
“I might just set out for the kitchen and never be heard from again,” Sophie said jokingly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll send out a search party,” Malcolm said. “Your phone rang while you were in the shower. Nina switched Pilates to noon, and she hopes that isn’t a problem. Call her if you’re not able to make that time.”
“No, I’ll make it work. Did your father call you about Lindsey?” Sophie asked.
“He did, and I don’t know why you didn’t just say that we would watch the dog,” Malcolm said.
