by Ginny Baird
“I’ve never had that done,” Chad answered. “I’m game.”
“Sure,” Derrick said. “Why not?”
“I’ve got a deck right here in my purse,” Ava said, reaching down toward the floor.
“Mom.”
Her mom’s chin jerked up. “Yes, Ho—holy moly. I almost called you Hope.” Ava broke out in a titter as Hope’s heart pounded like a kettledrum.
Elsa glanced around the table with a happy gleam in her eyes. “That probably happens to mothers everywhere. I sometimes mix up my boys.”
Parker agreed. “Yes, but just the names, not the people.”
“Oh. I’d never…mix up the people,” Ava said with a bright flush. “Jackie and Hope are so distinctive. Neither one is anything like the other. In fact, they’re very different. As different as night and day. Yin and yang. The moon and the—”
“Did you know that my mom’s also into music?” Hope said to Margaret, abruptly interceding.
“No, dear.” Margaret appeared intrigued and turned to Ava. “What instrument to you play?”
“Just my voice box.” Ava splayed her fingers against her throat. “Right here.”
“She’s really quite good,” Parker said.
Margaret smiled. “Oh?”
“We saw…heard a video,” Chad said before drinking some more wine.
“Yes.” Elsa smiled politely, then glanced toward the den. “Sofia’s been gone a while. Maybe someone should go and check on her?”
“I’ll go,” Sally said, and then her phone buzzed in her pocket. Her face fell when she read the incoming number. “Yikes, I’d better take this. Could be important. Sorry.”
Sally slipped toward the kitchen, and Hope stared around the table, noting the men were energetically discussing their sailing trip, while Margaret and Ava were recalling several tunes relating to what they called retro music. Margaret was probably more thrilled than she should have been to learn that Ava was also a musician. But that was only because she hadn’t yet heard her sing. Elsa started to stand, but Hope intervened.
“I can check on Sofia.”
“Oh, would you?” Elsa sighed gratefully. “That would be very nice. I just heard the coffee beep and was about to go and serve it.”
…
Hope found Sofia sitting on the back porch in a rocker, holding her head in her hands.
“Sofia?” Hope asked quietly. “Are you feeling sick?”
“A little,” she mumbled, her voice muffled. “Mostly queasy.”
“I’m sorry.” Hope sat down beside her. “I know where they keep the ginger ale around here. Would you like me to bring you some?”
Sofia glanced up with a haggard look. “Actually, ginger ale sounds divine.”
Hope walked to the kitchen through the hall so as not to disturb the others and prepared the ginger ale for Sofia, bringing it to her on the porch. She thought back to Sofia’s behavior earlier, remembering that she’d been the only one not drinking wine at dinner. “Did this come on all of a sudden?”
“I think…” Sofia wryly twisted her lips. “More like two and a half months ago.”
Hope gasped. “You’re pregnant?”
“Please don’t say anything to the others,” Sofia whispered. “Nobody knows yet.”
“Not even William?”
“Especially not William.”
Hope surveyed Sofia’s eyes, not understanding.
“We’ve been trying so hard.” Her chin trembled. “And, well…last time.” Moisture glistened in her eyes. “Things didn’t work out so well.” She took a tiny sip of ginger ale, staring sadly into her glass.
“Oh, Sofia. I’m so sorry.”
“William really wants to be a daddy. He’ll be a super one, too.”
“I’m sure you’ll both make great parents.”
“Thank you. I hope we get the chance.” She sniffed before continuing. “In any case, before… William was crushed. I don’t want him to live through that a second time.”
“He loves you. It’s so obvious. Maybe he’d welcome the chance to go through this with you. And hey.” She smiled when Sofia met her eyes. “Who’s to say that this time things won’t turn out perfect?”
“Brent told us you were pretty,” Sofia said. “He never mentioned you’re so nice.”
“I’m not being nice. I’m being honest.” The minute those words left her lips, Hope felt like the world’s hugest fraud. But the sympathy she felt for Sofia wasn’t manufactured. It was genuine.
Sofia heaved a sigh. “Maybe you’re right about William. I don’t know.” She took another sip of her soda and studied the darkened horizon past the low-burning glow of the firepit.
“Don’t worry about what you told me,” Hope said. “I can keep a secret.”
“That’s good,” Sofia said. “Because I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.”
“My thunder?”
“Girl, this is your wedding week. The attention should be on you.”
“There’s never a bad time for happy news,” Hope said. “But I understand your reasons for wanting to wait before telling your family.”
Sofia considered her a moment. “But not about me waiting to tell William?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, that’s true.”
“It’s a very personal decision,” Hope answered. “And we’ve only just met. I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to do.”
“You never told me. I was asking for your opinion.”
It honored Hope so much that Sofia would confide in her this way, and she badly didn’t want to blow their new connection. “I’d say listen to your heart. The heart wants what the heart wants.”
Sofia smiled. “Now where have I heard that expression before?”
“Grandmother Margaret,” they both said together and laughed.
“There you are,” William said, stepping through the French doors. “I was worried when you didn’t come back.” He stared down at the glass in her hand and then at the half-empty bottle of ginger ale on the table beside her. “Ginger ale?” His forehead crinkled with concern. “Sofia?”
“I’ll go and see if Grandmother Margaret needs help with the dishes,” Hope said, getting to her feet.
Then she left Sofia and William alone on the porch to discuss whatever it was Sofia decided her heart desired.
Moments later, she peered back through the French doors before entering the dining room. William had pulled Sofia out of her chair and into his arms, and both of them were crying.
Hope’s heart swelled with happiness as she said a silent prayer that everything would be all right. For Sofia. For William. For the three of them.
…
Derrick left shortly after dinner, and Sally excused herself to go upstairs. When Brent and Jackie entered the den to look for the others, neither William nor Sofia were anywhere in sight. Only a dim light emanated from the partially shut doors to the library, indicating that Chad and Margaret were probably still in there reading.
“Things are pretty quiet around here,” Jackie said. “It looks like my mom already headed back to the carriage house. Maybe we should call it a night?”
Getting some rest was probably a good idea, but Brent wasn’t ready to leave Jackie yet. They’d barely had any time alone together since their picnic, and Brent wanted more private time with his bride-to-be.
“It’s honestly not that late,” he said, checking the mantel clock and seeing it was just half past ten. “Are you maybe up for one more glass of wine?”
She hesitated a beat. “I don’t know, Brent.”
“It’s really nice out on the porch this time of evening,” he said. “As long as you wear a sweater.”
“I’m afraid my sweaters are down at the carriage house.”
“Then we can use one o
f these,” Brent said, snagging a soft throw blanket from the back of one of the loveseats. He shot her a grin. “Come on. We never did have that talk you promised me.”
“Talk?” Her forehead creased sweetly. “But we talked all afternoon on our picnic.”
“I’m talking about the other talk.” He teasingly lowered his eyebrows. “The one about our engagement?”
She gave a little laugh. “Oh yeah. That one.”
“Look at it this way,” he said. “This is our last night of freedom from the greater world before our cyber communications resume.”
“And we get back our phones!” she said with an elated gasp.
Brent wasn’t sure why it bothered him that she seemed so ecstatic about it.
He understood she had to stay on top of logistics for her business, as well as their wedding, but he honestly hadn’t missed the nearly constant buzzing of text messages in his pocket. He’d kind of enjoyed the singular buzz he caught from staring into Jackie’s gorgeous brown eyes. He’d never noticed how large they were or how captivating they could be before. Especially when she was looking at him—and appearing to adore him—the way she was now.
“Well, all right.” She shared a shy smile. “One little glass of wine probably won’t hurt.”
“I’ll pour, and you reserve the porch swing.”
He tossed her the blanket, and she caught it with a surprised chuckle. “Deal.”
…
Hope sat on the porch swing with the blanket draped around her as whistling winds wafted off of the water. The nearly full moon was high in the sky with a smattering of stars in the inky background beyond it.
Even from here, she could hear the low crackling from the firepit as its embers burned low, casting wavering shadows across the patio and the lawn. This place was so cozy. Despite its size, it still felt like a home.
Brent stepped out the door holding two glasses of wine. “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you’d prefer red or white. I noticed you drank pinot noir with dinner, so I brought us more of the same.”
“That’s perfect, thanks.” She accepted a wineglass from him, and Brent took a seat beside her on the porch swing. There was no escaping the fact that the setting was very romantic. “Do you want some of this blanket?” she offered as he settled in.
“Nope. I’m good, thanks. My thermostat runs high.” He grinned, and her pulse fluttered.
“That’s funny,” she said with a laugh. “I’m always cold.”
“Are you?” Brent’s forehead rose. “I thought you told me the opposite.”
Hope bit her bottom lip, realizing she’d made a slip. Jackie was always on the warm side, likely due to the fact that she was racing around all the time. When she wasn’t on her feet coordinating weddings, she was doing insane things like taking five-mile runs. Apparently.
“Right. That’s right,” she amended. “I do tend to run warm when I’m into my regular routine. But being up here has been so relaxing. I guess my metabolism’s slowed down.”
Brent chuckled at this. “No worries. We’ll charge it back up in the morning when we take that run.”
“Run,” Hope replied nervously. “Right.”
For a moment, neither one spoke as they both sipped from their wine.
After a bit, Brent broached the topic he’d evidently wanted to bring up. “I am sorry about that proposal, you know. I feel like a jerk about it.”
“Brent, don’t—”
“No, hear me out. You were right about a lot of things. It was definitely not romantic. More procedural than anything else.”
“I did go along with it, you know.”
“Yeah, I suppose both of us could have done better. Really thought this thing through.”
Hope held her breath. “Are you having doubts now?”
“Far from it.” His eyes sparkled in the soft light. “I’m actually starting to believe we made the right decision.”
She considered the reasons for him and Jackie making their agreement in the first place. “Is taking over Albright Enterprises really that important to you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He set his chin and then surprised her with his answer. “William.”
“William? I’m not sure I get it.”
“Please don’t misunderstand, because I deeply love my brother and he’s never been anything but extra kind to me, but everything in life has come super easy for him.”
Hope heaved a sigh, knowing she couldn’t break her confidence with Sofia. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Brent sipped from his wine. “You could be right. There are always things that people don’t know about each other. But on the surface, it’s been a little tough living in my big brother’s shadow. He was always more accomplished in school, always better at everything. Including knowing what he wanted to be from the start: a college professor. Then, when he met Sofia, he knew right away that she was the one. When the two of them found their first house, they bought it in an instant.”
“William’s decisive, you mean.”
“Yeah, and focused. Where I’ve always been…” Brent swirled the wine in his glass. “A bit less so, I suppose.” He looked up and met her eyes. “Until now.”
Her heart pounded as he went on. “You make me feel something, Jackie. Something I wasn’t even sure I was capable of feeling. I mean, anymore.”
“Anymore?” she asked gently. “And so, there was someone?”
“A very long time ago.”
“And?”
“The poets would say she broke my heart.”
“Brent,” she said, moved by his confession. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re probably wondering why I never told you this before?”
“You don’t have to tell me now, if you don’t want to.”
“But, I do…” Brent took her hand. “You’re different, somehow,” he told her. “Different from how I imagined. I guess getting to know your bride is not such a bad idea after all.”
“I’m sorry about your heart.”
“Don’t be.” He captured her in his gaze, and Hope’s heart stilled. Then, her heart skipped a beat when he continued. “You’re helping put it back together. And not just in the relationship sense. I want to be a better man. Taking over Albright Enterprises used to be about proving myself just as capable as my brother, but now I want this for us.”
A wave of guilt crashed over her. At the same time, she felt bathed in happiness—in a very twisted way. Brent was starting to get personal with her…very personal. But thinking she was Jackie. Which was all messed up and wrong. “Brent—”
“You don’t have to say anything. I know I’m laying a lot on you.” He stared into her soul, and Hope imagined her whole world changing. Wanted to hang on to these new feelings emerging between them and never let go.
“It’s okay,” she said, also admitting her truth, even though she predicted it would eventually shatter her. “You’re helping my heart, too.”
“Am I?” He gently squeezed her hand, and she couldn’t help holding his a little tighter. The two of them felt so connected right now, and not in a fake way, but for real.
“Brent, I…I’m not sure what’s happening between us.”
A smile warmed his face. “Is it too much to hope we’re actually falling in love?”
“That would be something,” she said with a dreamy sigh.
His gaze washed over her, and oh how she wanted him to sweep her away. To some place far from here, where it was just the two of them, starting over from the very beginning. And without the complication of her sister’s bogus marriage in the way.
“My heart’s been broken, too, you know. A whole bunch of times.”
“Oh no.” Sadness filled his eyes. “Jackie, I’m sorry. Were these the pre-holiday-dumping guys?”
“A few of them, yeah. But not all. I’ve just never…you know.” She dropped her chin. “Found the right one.”
When she looked up at him, he said, “Some things are worth the wait.”
Hope desperately wanted to believe that was true. Because she’d wait an eternity for Brent if she thought he could really be hers someday. “Yeah.”
“What happened with those other guys? I mean, you don’t have to tell me.”
“It just wasn’t…mutual,” she said, finding it painful to admit it out loud. “Or maybe the word is reciprocated.”
“Well, that’s not really your fault. I mean, you couldn’t very well force your feelings. I’ve been there, too.”
She realized that he’d misunderstood her, so she explained. “No. I mean it was me who wasn’t loved.”
He gazed at her in disbelief. “What kind of idiots were these?”
This brought a shaky smile. “The kind who weren’t completely into me?”
“Maybe we should be grateful for that.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “If one of them had been, then maybe you and I wouldn’t have found each other.”
He was making so much sense and being so sweet, it was only making Hope fall harder. And she’d been having a really tough time not falling for Brent as it was. She was sorry that he’d been hurt, too, and wanted to know what had happened.
“What about you? Was it only that one bad breakup?”
He laughed bitterly. “I was one and done after that.”
“I’m sorry.”
He turned away and looked toward the bay. “It was right after college, when I lived in New York. We dated for two years, and I thought it was going somewhere.”
“Two years? That’s a long time.”
“Yeah, but I guess it didn’t take.”
“What happened?” She stared up at his rugged profile, so badly wanting to know. Mainly so she could help make it better, if she could.
“Truthfully?” He met her eyes, his eyebrows arched. “She said she couldn’t handle my family.”