AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her dad rubbed her shoulder. “Sounds like just the thing, sweet pea.” He puttered over to the fridge, his hair still damp and mussed, and began rummaging around inside.
“So,” Sophie began, sliding the diced onions into a bowl on the counter. “How’s work?” If there was one surefire way to keep her father from asking anything about her and why she was here, it was to ask him about work. Construction in upstate New York was fraught with issues, weather being one of the biggest. Especially in the spring, when it could go from eighty degrees and sunny one day to snow within the week.
“Oh, well, Fred’s got this notion that we can somehow get around building code on the window he wants to put in.” Her father poured himself a glass of juice and leaned against the kitchen doorway as he continued to regale her with tales of his current client, who apparently thought that laws were secondary to his aesthetics.
Sophie made the meatballs and listened to his stories, laughing in all the right places. It felt good to be home. Safe and warm. Perhaps it was pathetic that she still needed to run to Mommy and Daddy when something bad happened, but shouldn’t she feel blessed that she had a home she could run to? She’d think of it that way, instead.
“Well, goodness,” her mother said from the doorway. “If I’d have known we were having company, I would have shooed out that Grant kid earlier. He was just looking at the anatomical drawings in the medical texts, the little pervert.”
“Hey, don’t judge, Rennie. He might be a doctor someday.” Her father leaned over to brush a kiss on her mother’s cheek.
Rennie Becker squeezed her husband’s arm. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” She set her purse on the table and crossed the kitchen in two long legged strides
. When it came to the gene pool, Sophie had been lucky to get her mother’s legs. Her father’s side of the family was all stocky and graceless. He’d be the first to say so. Her mom was willowy and elegant.
“Hey baby,” Rennie said now, wrapping an arm around Sophie’s shoulders and giving her a light hug.
“What’re you doing home?” Sophie leaned into her mother’s side as she kneaded the meat and spices to make meatballs.
“Oh, um. Gas leak at the studio. It’s going to take a few days to fix.”
Her mother studied her face with calm shrewdness, one dark brow quirked slightly upward. Sophie’s heart dipped a little. Had her mother seen the news? Maybe one of the town busybodies had said something. Sophie’s fingers tightened in the goopy meat mixture. But after a long moment, her mother nodded. “Well, I’m glad to see you.” She brushed a quick kiss on Sophie’s cheek and turned back to her husband.
“Come on and help me set the table, Jim. It’ll go quicker with two sets of hands.”
“Slave driver.” The grumble was good natured. He pushed away from the wall and began rummaging in the drawer, pulling out utensils.
Sophie tried to relax into warm, happy atmosphere her parents created wherever they went. She listened to her mother joke about the old ladies on the library board and their weeks long debate about the suitability of carrying the Harry Potter novels while she boiled the pasta and stirred the sauce. She watched her father’s facial expressions while he talked about the new kid on his crew while she browned the meatballs.
She felt as if she’d retreated into a shell, like a turtle. Things inside were pleasant and warm and comfortable. But she knew just outside the thin crust of protective layering, the world was cold and brutal. She caught her mother watching her while they ate, but as long as the conversation remained focused on them, Sophie was able to laugh and joke. She hardly thought about Henry at all.
The only bad moment had come when her cell phone rang. There was a lull in conversation as they all finished the last of their spaghetti. Sophie winced visibly when she heard the musical jangle of her ringer from her purse in the foyer. Was that him? He was supposed to call her tonight and set up their next date. The spaghetti she’d just eaten did a lazy roll in her stomach.
Sophie swallowed heavily. Her mother’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Gonna get that?”
“No.” Sophie shook her head for emphasis, but forced her lips to curve upward. “I have a no phones at the dinner table policy.”
“Good idea,” her dad rumbled. “All these young kids on the job, they barely put down their phones to use a nail gun, I swear. It’s a damn hazard.”
She could have kissed her father. Instead, she urged him along as he launched into a story of a young guy at his last job who’d nearly sawed his own hand off because he was updating Twitter. Her mother didn’t say anything, but Sophie felt her eyes on her all through the rest of dinner and dessert - angel food cake with strawberries.
By the time they’d cleared away the dishes and gone up to bed, Sophie’s nerves were stretched taut as bailing wire. Any second, she felt like she was going to snap. She slid her cell phone from her purse and glanced at it. Two missed calls. The first was from Darren, who she’d forgot to call when she’d gotten here.
The other was from Henry. She deleted the message without even listening to it. Whatever he said, it was only going to make her feel worse. Sophie sent Darren a quick text to let him know she wasn’t dead in a ditch, and then slid beneath her covers. Her whole body ached, as if she’d been dancing all day. Or she’d been beaten. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to see the trophies lined up on top of her bookshelf, and waited for sleep to come.
It was a long time before she sank into dreamless nothingness. Every moment until then was filled with thoughts of Henry.
Chapter Seventeen
Main Street hardly ever changed. For as long as Sophie could remember, Chuck’s Corner Store and the pharmacy were at one end, and the hardware store and Robin’s Nest were at the other. A few of the storefronts in between got makeovers or changed hands from time to time, but overall the feel of her hometown’s one main drag had altered little from when she was a child.
Her mother had suggested they have a girl’s day. She had to work at the library (which was also on Main) until noon, but made plans to meet Sophie for lunch at the Bistro afterward. Sophie couldn’t spend another minute alone at the house with all those pictures and trophies. So here she was, an hour early, perusing the shops. She’d gotten her first after school job at Robin’s Nest, the tiny little general store. They had still sold penny candy back then, the kind that was set out in jars on the counter.
Little tchotchkes and curios had lined every other available surface. Small ceramic ducks and beavers, Hummel figurines, polished stones. The cramped, overstuffed space had seemed somehow magical to her as a teenager. As if, if she just found the right object, her whole world would change. When it was slow, which it almost always ways except in the summer time when tourists flooded the mountains, Sophie had roamed the oddly proportioned room, stirring her hand through bins of corn cob pipes and vats of marbles.
She’d randomly pluck things from shelves and baskets and study them intently for their hidden properties. She’d imagined herself as someone in a ballet like The Nutcracker, suddenly discovering the secret lives of the figurines in the shop. Not that she hadn’t had any friends at all. But she’d always been so dedicated to her dancing, it had left little time for socializing.
“Poor little Sophie,” one of the other dancers used to sing-song as she and the other dancers tripped out of the studio to go to bars and hook up with men. Sophie almost always stayed back and practiced by herself.
