West End Wonder: A Hero Club Novel

by Sheri Lynn

  Her desire to sit and remain lost to her thoughts during the flight didn’t happen. After making sure Amanda got to her seat and had everything available to keep her somewhat comfortable, Sophia went to find her seat. Go figure she had a middle seat. That she could have worked with. Having Ellie in the window seat beside her obliterated any lingering notion she might have of disassociating from everything and everyone.

  It started out general enough. Ellie asked about Amanda. She mentioned the weather. The wedding. Renee’s dress. They hadn’t left the runway before Ellie steered the conversation deeper.

  “I sure wish you wouldn’t look so glum I truly can’t fathom how you feel. But we all feel it. Just not as deeply as you do perhaps. And it’s not your fault. Really. You didn’t have some dark vendetta against Amanda. You didn’t even know her before the wedding”.

  Sophia rolled her eyes. She didn’t even try to hide it. Why did Ellie talk so much? And what did Ellie think she knew about how Sophia felt. She didn’t. She didn’t drive the damn scooter into a wall. No, Sophia did. And after being the one responsible for the terrible incident, it was Sophia, not Ellie, who condemned the man she loved and how he lived his life. “How old are you, Ellie,” she asked.

  “Twenty-three. I graduated from Ohio State in May. I took a position at my father’s accountant firm in Chicago over the summer, but I’m not quite sure where I want to be. Stuart and Renee invited me to come to Orlando and there are opportunities there for me, but I’m undecided.” Ellie uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them putting the other leg on top. Her head bounced as she talked, as did her bob haircut.

  “You aren’t involved with anyone?” Sophia asked. Why she settled on asking that particular question, she didn’t know. The plane left the ground. She left the island behind her. And Trevor. An ache in her chest formed.

  “Kind of. Sometimes. And he doesn’t want me to leave Chicago.”

  “Are you willing to make that sacrifice for him?” The sacrifice Sophia convinced herself she would be making if she tried keeping a relationship with Trevor suddenly didn’t feel like a sacrifice. Not having him in her life was the true sacrifice.

  “Sacrifice? I don’t consider it any form of sacrifice. I believe our relationship is strong. For now. And our foundation isn’t supported by where we are. Of course, the ultimate goal is to be together. But life isn’t always black and white. And we encourage each other. We love each other. It will. Or it won’t last.”

  Whoa. The twenty-three-year-old had a better understanding of life and relationships than she did. Another reason for Sophia to hate herself.

  An awareness came over her. Sophia made a terrible mistake. The biggest fattest fucking blunder any woman could make. All her determination to never depend on a man as she must depend on herself and to never allow one to interfere with her goals or sway her from her course cost her more than any amount of money. She had no one else to blame but herself.

  She loved Trevor. And because he didn’t live the ideal life she deemed suitable, she forced him out of her life.

  He must hate her. She would if she were him. She was a bitch. She didn’t deserve him.

  Once she made it home, she crawled in bed and stayed in it all week. She never went to the office. She didn’t answer calls. She replied to a few emails, but being alone and in her personal space, she surrendered to all the emotion she postponed until she returned.

  Her pain captured and restrained her. In the days she waited to confront her grief, she had become the desert. And once her tears drenched the parched soil, it couldn’t survive without it. She cried and cried until her throat and chest hurt. She couldn’t function. Everything hurt.

  She thought she wouldn’t live through the first time of losing Trevor. This time proved insufferable. She never left her bed. Except to relieve herself. She didn’t drink. Didn’t eat.

  Sunday morning, Molly busted into her bedroom. “Sophia--,” she started. Her limbs flailed in obvious frustration at finding Sophia in her current state, along with the condition of usually immaculate home. Molly ripped the covers off her and kneeled by the bed peering into Sophia’s absent face. “What the hell has happened? Talk to me. We have Berger and Associates and Tyndall threatening breach of contract.”

  Sophia rolled to her stomach and burrowed her head in the covers and pillows. “You’ll handle it. I know you will,” she choked. She hadn’t spoken a word since talking with Pete about Amanda’s surgery and recovery once earlier in the week. She sounded like a sick frog.

  Finally, after a Unisom and some Benadryl the prior evening, Sophia slipped into a necessary slumber. The drowsiness lingered. She closed her eyes yearning for the solace of sleep.

  “Sophia,” interrupted Molly in a muted whim. “This isn’t you. If you keep on like this…you will hate yourself.

  Reaching for the covers, she couldn’t find them. Sophia kicked her legs hoping to hook them. She did not. “Give me my blanket,” she demanded.

  Molly opened the blinds and pulled the curtains back. She went into the kitchen and Sophia heard her running water, tossing things in the trash, and brewing a pot of coffee.

  Crawling out of bed, Sophia went to the bathroom to relieve herself. The door flew open and Molly entered starting the shower. “Get in. Don’t come out until that greasy head of hair is washed and I can smell the vanilla you douse yourself in.” She scooped towels up from the floor and took the cleaner from under the cabinet. She sprayed the sink and fixtures before huffing and leaving the room.

  Reality set in. Sophia unrolled some toilet paper and stuffed it in her mouth. She forced more in there. And she screamed. Her muffled scream reverberated in her head. But it spread further. It extended to her chest. Her thighs. Knees. Toes. She welcomed it. She embraced it.

  Molly came around the corner of the bedroom looking into the bathroom. She saw Sophia’s breakdown and she rushed her. She kneeled on the floor and flung her arms around Sophia. She hugged her tight. She soothed her. Reminding Sophia, she had someone. Always. “Why haven’t you called me? At least returned my calls. You’re my hero. You know this. But we all need someone to lean on sometimes.” She sat back on her heels and slapped her palms on her thighs. “I’m so angry at you right now. But I love you so much at the same time.”

  Sophia chuckled. Funny. She knew someone else who might characterize her the same way.

  Molly laughed with her. Then stopped. Popping Sophia on the knee, she commanded, “In the shower now. Coffee is brewing for us while we tackle some work issues. Wine if you want afterward. But I’m not leaving here until my mentor, the woman I adore, appears and talks to me. Let me help you.”

  And Molly did just that.

  Seven hours later after confiding to Molly about Trevor and Roatán, two pots of coffee, Chinese takeout, and the second bottle of wine opened and flowing, Sophia breathed easier than she might have during her entire life. She had a plan.

  Molly had worked with Sophia at the company she started out at. She took the leap and left when Sophia did to start her own company. For eight years Sophia didn’t realize the friend she had in Molly. She recognized her as the trustworthy, dependable, capable right-hand of hers, but she never discussed anything personal with her. Until now.

  The revelations kept coming. Sophia had built a wall around herself. She had tunnel vision. Renee said it was Sophia that gave up on Trevor after college, not the other way around. She was right. And Trevor told her she needed to grow up. She did need to.

  It terrified her straying from her concept of the perfect life she always envisioned for herself. But she accomplished what she wanted and more. Just because she stared out the dirty window and ripped screen of her tiny bedroom as a child dreaming of what she wanted her life to be didn’t mean she failed, and everything would collapse if it changed.

  Monday, one week after returning, Sophia went back to work. Time for her to make the necessary preparations to begin her new journey. She had a day full of back-to-back meetings.


  It all still felt overwhelming and perhaps unwise, but it also felt right. Molly texted her at least three times an hour, reminding her not to overthink. She also strategically placed post-it notes around the office displaying her words of wisdom ‘take care of the now – the future will fall in place.’

  Molly had put everything into perspective for her. After Sophia told her about Trevor, their history, their recent reunion, it became necessary to explain her family, or lack of. Molly quickly told Sophia not to factor in the past or a future she couldn’t predict, when deciding what if any move to make with Trevor.

  Sophia couldn’t deny it. She didn’t want to be without Trevor. Whatever it took.

  It wouldn’t happen overnight. But she knew what she wanted. It started with taking care of business demanding her immediate attention. Molly agreed to help in any way to make the necessary transition easier.

  Contacting with Trevor became her most intimidating hurdle. All the hemming and hawing she inflicted on him. She had a lot of mending fences ahead of her. She told him she had another man. She mistreated his heart. He could be lost to her forever.

  And asking Trevor to be patient with her translated in her mind into her climbing Mt. Everest. If he even wanted her any longer. If he could forgive her. It wouldn’t be easy. But he had to understand the enormous leap she planned to take. He couldn’t rush her. And he would.

  The day went long. Not necessarily longer than she expected, but long, nonetheless. Unlocking her door at almost nine p.m. her cell rang. She couldn’t answer it as her hands were full and she fumbled to turn on some lights.

  Placing her laptop and a few groceries on the kitchen island she pulled her phone out. Her mom. Again.

  Sophia had been ignoring her mom’s voicemails. Emails. Facebook messages. Three days of avoidance and the hard reality hit. And it didn’t play nice.

  Her mother had taken the time to look up her email address. Which she had readily available but being a drunken deadbeat, she kept nothing organized, would have had to search for it, and never used it before. And her mom Facebook messaged her. Her mom never went on Facebook.

  The decision to call her mom back didn’t come easy. She planned to call Trevor. Best if she learned what inflated emergency her mom had.

  The timing sucked. She had just rediscovered her strengths. She faced her weaknesses. At least she hoped so. But one call. One call could sink her.

  Did her mom need money? Sophia made an automatic deposit every month to her mom’s account.

  The truth of the matter being her mother would be a part of her life for many more years to come. And eventually, Trevor would be exposed to her reliance on Sophia. One day they might meet. She cringed at the thought. No. She wouldn’t ever have them meet.

  Sophia made a life-changing decision. She and Molly were the only two aware of it. She worried if she allowed her mother to intrude onto her shaky foundation—unfortunately, Sophia still had reservations—she could lose her courage. She didn’t want to risk it.

  Sophia did what she must. She called her mom. The phone rang until it went to voicemail.

  Of course, it went to voicemail and mom returned the call within two minutes. Sophia had timed it as a child. While most kids were counting sheep, okay not that cliché, she listened to the phone ring and her mom stumble around trying to locate it. By then it worked in her favor as she read the caller id. She never called back the creditors.

  Two minutes later her mom called her back. “Sophia. My baby girl. How are you?” her mother cooed in her typical alcohol induced slur.

  Sophia closed her eyes and envisioned being with Trevor on the beach in Utila. “Great. What do you need?”

  “Don’t you go copping that attitude with me. You know how that just gets me all riled up,” her mom snapped. “Did you get my messages?”

  “The ones that I think you were telling me to call you. They read more as calk me.” Sophia hadn’t bothered to listen to the voicemails, but she read the texts, emails, and message. All of which consisted of the same calk me request.

  “You know what. I don’t need this. I’m not contacting you for me anyway. Reba needs you.”

  Reba. Her half-sister’s mother. The woman her dad left them for. Her curiosity got the best of her. “What on Earth for? She need money now too,” Sophia sneered.

  “Sophia Raelynn Conrad--,”

  She hated nothing as much as she hated hearing her mom call her by her full name.

  “Abigail is dead. Dead. She’d been a crack whore since high school, but she and a couple recent graduates up and thought they could out race a train. Killed em all. Damn thing decapitated her,” her mom blurted in morbid enthusiasm.

  Too many things were wrong with the entire admission. Crack whore. Abigail. Daddy’s li’l strawberry field. Bile rose in her throat causing her to gag remembering her dad referring to Abigail as his lil’ strawberry field. He once called Sophia the same thing. All three had the signature red hair and blue eyes of a Conrad.

  And high school. Abigail graduated seven years ago. She had an issue with drugs since. This came as news to Sophia. Then again. She didn’t keep touch with any of them. The most repulsive part—other graduates. A twenty-five-year-old hanging out with high schoolers.

  “I can’t make it.” As if she would even consider it. She had no relationship with Abigail. Even less with Reba. Growing up Sophia did her best to avoid her cruel half-sister. She took her dad away from her. He allowed it. But all the parading Abigail did with her new toys and bikes and the never-ending taunts about how he loved her the best and couldn’t stand the sight of Sophia—were heartbreaking.

  “She has a baby girl. Had a baby girl,” her mom yelped.

  No. No. No. The same stories. Babies with one or both loser parents. The details of too many dying at early ages. It never changed. Just the names of the deceased did. The bile swelled in her throat burning her esophagus and mouth. Being in contact with anyone from her childhood twisted and turned her stomach until it soured, and she had no choice but to expel its contents. She dropped the phone and ran to the bathroom.

  Returning to her phone within a few minutes, she still heard her mom slurring about something or another. “Mom. Mom,” she interrupted. “When did this happen, Mom?” Sophia inquired before her mom said another word.

  “Saturday morning. Guess around four in da morning. Funeral is day after tomorrow.”

  Licking her lips and searching for any amount of saliva, Sophia stressed, “I’ll be there tomorrow. With money. But I don’t need to be there in person to cover the costs of the funeral.”

  “We are all aware of how rich you are. How great your life is and what a big shot you are. Reba is a mess. She’s lost Abigail and now she’s lost Craig. She wants to do right by Lily.”

  “I said I’ll have money,” Sophia snapped and ended the call.

  She wouldn’t be calling Trevor that night. Get this behind her. When she contacted him, it would be all about him. Him and her. She made enough mistakes with him and she wanted to make it right. Perfect. Never again did she want him doubting her commitment to them.

  Regardless of the likelihood of her family’s desire for money, she wouldn’t be able to rest if she didn’t ensure the child went to a good home and was well cared for. Not that it had that so far in life.

  Lily. A girl. Abigail had a baby girl.

  Sophia hadn’t returned home since she left for college fourteen years ago. And the dread and anxiety of doing so rushed her.

  Chapter 12

  D.C.

  Trevor

  Realizing his parents were accurate in their description over the years of him having a thick skull, he made a mental note to call them and visit them while back in the States. He did have a thick skull. One made of concrete when it came to Sophia.

  Seven days after she left Roatán—seven of the most testing days he ever experienced, he went after her.

  He purchased a one-way ticket. He wouldn’t return t
o the island until she came with him. If it took a month, two months, however long, they would do it together.

  Surprisingly, Marti didn’t make a fuss. She didn’t attempt to change his mind either. She didn’t criticize him, call him a dumbass, or accuse him of making a mistake. More reasons for him to trust his instincts. They sat at the tiny table together, shared a couple beers, and went over the schedules for the shop. She assured him she could manage without him.

  He packed his bag and went for a walk. Sitting on the pier by his boat his eyes went to the name. My Slo-phia. He named it after his Sophia. He had three nieces but none with that name. No woman ever rattled his cage as she did. No woman ever possessed his heart as she did. He didn’t name the boat expecting to ever have another chance with her. Now that he had, he couldn’t be without her. He wouldn’t.

  He figured the time had come for him to stop lying to himself. The fact he named his boat after her did make him out to be a lovesick fool. Even when she came for the wedding, he didn’t have any unrealistic expectations. Opposites must attract. He met a lot of women over the years but not one of them would he chase down and fight tooth and nail for.

  He didn’t fight hard enough in the past. He tried to convince her they could make it work. She wouldn’t consider anything other than all or nothing. He wanted her to live the life she desired for herself. So, he backed off and left her alone as she requested.

  Not again. They would figure it out together. Even if it meant he had to sacrifice his dreams, so be it. They didn’t mean as much to him without her.

  Tuesday, he flew his plane to Tegucigalpa on the mainland and from there he caught a flight to Atlanta. One connection in Atlanta to D.C. and he’d be at her home by late afternoon. He gave her space. He gave her time. The time came to act.