All the Days After

by Carrie Thorne

  “Well, that’s when it started. I was sold that day sitting over the creek. You weren’t quite the womanizing lecher I’d been led to believe. Easy to visit with, fun to joke around with when I needed a distraction. As always, you made me feel respected. Normal. Sexy but not objectified.”

  He continued to hold her close. “It started a bit sooner for me.”

  “You hadn’t even met me yet. Now who’s confusing lust for love?” She knew they would be missed soon, but had trouble caring.

  “I’ve been dreaming of those lips of yours for years. Was a little hesitant that you’d be as uptight as my sis, maybe more so as an accountant, but I knew there was more to you with all the secrets you try to hide behind those stormy eyes.”

  From across the grounds, they heard Lincoln bellow their names.

  “Shit, we are absurdly late for pictures.” Sophie dragged Asher at full speed to the men’s suite. “Be quick. Your tux is hanging right inside. I brought a bag of your toiletries; should be on the bathroom counter.”

  Pulling her back for a quick, but profound kiss, he gave her a quick pat on the ass. As she walked out of sight, he whispered just loud enough for her to hear, “Don’t work too hard. I’ve got plans for you later.”

  20

  A Long Day

  Leaning back in her chair under the stars, Sophie held her very full stomach. “I think I ate too much.”

  A very satisfied and mellow Pippa nudged her in the side, “You’re not getting out of dancing at my wedding that easily.”

  Lincoln leaned across Pippa, “Hey, we paid good money for that cake. You’d better have saved room.”

  Sophie chuckled and sipped her wine, “Not as much as you think. It’s actually three birthday cakes from the grocery store bakery that Denise stacked and scattered candied flower petals over.”

  Overall, they’d done pretty well shaving off some of those big expenses. She tried to not toot her own horn often, but it was well deserved in this case. Lincoln and Pippa got up from the table and made some rounds, chatting with their guests as others finished their dinners. Sophie couldn’t imagine knowing so many people to invite to her own wedding; half the dang town was here.

  As many of the guests finished eating, others wandered the grounds and socialized before toasts, cake, and dancing. Timed to the minute thanks to Pippa’s meticulous planning, they had about twenty minutes until the next set of wedding obligations. Who knew weddings were such hard work? No wonder Pippa had lost her mind planning it.

  Heading to the back to freshen up a bit and escape the crowd for a few, Sophie caught an earful from someone she’d never even met. Stopping abruptly in front of her, a short, wiry old man shook his finger at her. “You must be Sophie Jones. I heard about what you did to your poor aunt. Framing her for an embezzling scam and sending her to prison in your stead? For shame.”

  Wanting to argue, but knowing it was an uphill battle, Sophie brushed past the strange man. She made it a few paces before she heard a weeping sound she knew only too well.

  “She really is a sweet girl, just misdirected. I don’t blame her for the conflict that has occurred between us, really. I manage just fine now that Sophie’s involvement in that prostitution scandal has calmed down.”

  Turning slowly, dreading what she would see, Sophie approached her dear old Auntie Yvette. Hair a homely shade of brown, attire toned down to a lavender pantsuit and flats, she hardly even recognized her. A small crowd had gathered to hear Yvette’s woes and the incriminating gossip about the town’s newest accountant. The stranger from the big city.

  Sophie was done with it. Placing her hand sweetly on Yvette’s arm to capture her attention, Sophie interrupted the hurtful conversation. Yvette feigned a chin quiver when she saw Sophie.

  “Lovely to see you Yvette, but I can’t say I’m surprised. I guess you didn’t get the Netflix role. Need a few thousand more for another boob job? Or is it more Botox this time? I’m really not sure your landlord would appreciate another blowjob in lieu of rent this month.” She’d thought of all kinds of accusations. Maybe something about the jail or to ask after her pimp. It was tough to choose just one, so she went with the truth as it was equally damning.

  She felt Asher’s fingers link with her own as he came up from behind her to stand at her side.

  Those damn butterflies in her stomach were flipping out. Holding her ground, she was terrified yet exhilarated to stand up to her vile aunt so boldly. So publicly.

  Asher didn’t hesitate to reprimand Yvette. Unflinching, calm and collected, as Sophie had discovered him to be in a fight, he called her out, “I don’t recall my sister inviting you. It’s time for you to go.”

  Grady stepped up her other side. After a disgusted glance at Yvette, he turned to Sophie, “I believe I offered legal assistance regarding your aunt’s threats, should you need it. I would be happy to write up some documents to protect you from any further slander or defamation of character.”

  Before Sophie could fully process the wall of support forming around her, Jane appeared next to Grady. Voice steady and even, Jane didn’t bother to hide a superior smirk. “You must be Yvette. I am Sophie’s new employer that you called yesterday. As I mentioned on the phone, Sophie has my full support, and I will not lend credence to your lies.”

  Jane’s tone abruptly turned harsh despite Yvette’s wide, moist eyes and meek façade. “What kind of aunt tries to get her niece fired? Very creative tales you spun, but Sophie’s record is quite clean. I would know, as I recently ran the appropriate background checks I would for any prospective employee.” She reached across Grady to pat Sophie on the shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind, but I already filed a complaint with the police department.”

  The crowd no longer looked so sympathetic towards Yvette. Looks of disgust were swiftly redirected. Sophie no longer felt the dread, the exposed sensation that rotted and festered in her stomach that she’d grown to expect when in public with Yvette. Warmth from the show of support from her friends filled her veins.

  Another voice boomed from behind her as he approached. Chief Larson pulled his badge from his suit pocket and flashed it at Yvette. “Ma’am. I’m the Chief of Police here in Foothills. I understand you were not invited. I’ll ask you to leave the premises immediately.”

  By then, a small crowd had gathered behind Sophie in a show of support. All these years, she’d been too afraid, too proud to ask for help, despising the weakness that was her only relation. She felt an emerging sense of optimism, bolstered by the support of her new community.

  As one could have predicted, Yvette didn’t take well to the tide turning against her. “Chief, please. I’m so glad you’re here. Sophie has been harassing me. She’s the reason I haven’t landed a decent role in years. Her illegal deeds always come back to haunt me.” Abundant tears flowed down her cheeks.

  Oh boy. Here we go.

  Larson wasn’t easily manipulated. “If you continue making accusations without legal support to back them up, I will recommend a restraining order and that she accept the offer of legal counsel from Mr. Mallory, here.”

  And that was about all Yvette could handle. With the emotional intelligence of a preadolescent child, her tantrum wasn’t pretty. Yvette brushed her hair over her shoulder dramatically, whacking the guest next to her in the face.

  She screamed. She hollered. She stomped her feet.

  Plodding right up to Sophie, she stopped inches away. It was oddly gratifying for outsiders to see the nightmare of a woman she’d had to suffer all these years, yet humiliating at the same time. “Please, leave. Now,” Sophie demanded through gritted teeth.

  From out of nowhere, Yvette’s hand flew into the air to strike Sophie across the cheek. With quick reflexes, Asher caught her hand before she could succeed. Ripping her hand away brusquely, Yvette smacked Asher across the face, the loud crack echoing across the grounds.

  Self-righteously, he smiled as he rubbed the glowing handprint on his cheek.

  As u
sual, Yvette was so self-centered she begged for help. “Officer, you saw that. I’m pressing charges against this man. He grabbed my wrist.”

  Larson seemed to be enjoying himself. Tongue in his cheek, he tried not to smile. “Actually, you just assaulted the newest recruit to the Foothills Police department; he’s already proving himself to be an impressive asset. I’ll have to double check on the nuances at this point, but as he’s officially been hired, you may have just assaulted an officer of the law.” He glanced at Asher briefly, “Sutherland, you looking to press charges?”

  He considered a moment. Looking to Sophie, he left the decision to her. Sophie felt the connection between them growing deeper, more elaborate. How could she not fall more in love with him, feeling such support, such respect for her opinion?

  Yvette was digging her own grave, and a little legal protection might just help solve this once and for all. “Absolutely.”

  Stepping forward, Larson took Yvette by the arm and led her away. “Nice work, Sutherland. I’ll escort her out; I was about to head home soon anyway. Sophie, Asher, mind stopping by the station tomorrow? I believe you have eager legal counsel here if you’d like to invite Grady along.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks, Chief Larson.” She smiled, again, appreciating that Asher’s new boss was a pretty decent guy. After all the shit he’d been through, the self-doubt lately, he could use a supportive boss.

  “I believe I told you it’s Jonah. Enjoy the rest of your night.” Yvette wasn’t so feisty now. Head hung low, she played the cooperative prisoner, no doubt to downplay her punishment.

  After accepting a few quick words of support from her friends, and several new acquaintances that inquired about her start date with Foothills Accounting, Sophie continued on her path back to the dressing rooms for a moment of peace and quiet. Maybe a good crying jag.

  ***

  She paced the room, restless. Was it really over with Yvette? Or was the nightmare just beginning? The whirlwind of uncertainty was suffocating. Thank goodness no more than twenty people had witnessed the scene. Particularly Pippa; she’d hate for Yvette to ruin her friend’s special day.

  Sophie sat on the awkwardly squishy velvet couch and buried her head in her hands, waiting for tears that just wouldn’t flow. Over the years, she’d cried so much over Yvette she didn’t have anything left. As much as she hated crying, the pressure behind her eyes was almost painful, begging for the soggy release.

  Giving up, knowing she needed to get back out there, she headed into the bathroom for a quick refresh of hair and makeup before rejoining the party. With any luck, the pent-up sob-fest wouldn’t strike her during the reception. Or during her toast; that would be humiliating.

  Cautiously, the door opened. Asher popped his head in and searched the room for her, finally finding her peeking her head out from the bathroom to see who the intruder was.

  “You okay?” He closed the door behind him and locked it.

  Her gut torn to pieces, filled with confused butterflies, she nearly knocked him over she ran so anxiously into his arms. “I hate that woman so much.” Anger was a decent emotion, better than the hollow nothingness.

  Remembering the slap, she studied Asher’s cheek. “I think she left a mark.” Sophie gently ran her fingers over his smooth cheek, missing the stubbled beard he normally wore, wishing her vile aunt’s handprint hadn’t taken its place.

  Scoffing, he covered the mark defensively. “Not exactly the worst assault I’ve sustained.” His voice softening, he grazed a knuckle across Sophie’s cheekbone, “I’m just glad she hit me and not you.”

  “Thanks for that. Nice catch.” On her tiptoes, Sophie kissed away the hurt. Asher pulled her tightly against him, burying his face in her hair.

  A wiggle of the doorknob, followed by a demanding knock, startled her out of the peace she’d enveloped around herself. Shit. Probably Pippa coming to check on her. Word would likely be spreading fast to those that hadn’t witnessed the humiliating scene.

  Might as well rip another fricking band-aid off while she was at it, shatter all of her protective coatings in a twenty-minute period. Stepping in front of Asher to face the music head on, she bravely opened the door.

  Not Pippa. Phew. She didn’t actually want to rip that band-aid off just yet, but found she was proud of her courageous attempt. Instead of a flabbergasted bride, Denise rushed in the doorway as soon as it was open.

  Throwing her arms around Sophie, Denise started talking a mile a minute, her voice shaking with fury. “I am so sorry that woman got in. Are you okay? What a nightmare for you. Oh, I just hate that bitch.”

  Now the waterworks started with an annoying combination of relief and irritation. She hated crying, but the release was welcome. Wishing she hadn’t already retouched her makeup, Sophie gave up her last shred of control and let it all out. Between sobs, she managed, “I’m fine. Really.” Denise held her, letting her cry out the last fifteen years of humiliation and fear.

  Finally, the tears started to slow, and Denise stepped back. Smoothing Sophie’s hair maternally, the side of her mouth rose in a kindhearted smile when she saw the dark mascara smudges. Linking arms with Sophie, she guided her back into the bathroom. “I’m so proud of how you stood up to her. Now, you’d better get cleaned up and back out there before you’re missed.”

  Asher stood back and watched, face pinched in indecision and concern. Tugging at his tie, he finally ditched the excessive swath of fabric and tossed it across the room. Leaving Sophie to clean up her now irretrievably destroyed makeup, Denise grabbed her son and pulled him in for a squeezing bear hug.

  “You did good out there,” Sophie heard Denise complimenting her son. “I’m glad Sophie has you to stand up for her.” She added, “And vice versa.”

  A long pause. Sophie almost had the inky black scrubbed away from under her eyes but wasn’t sure the I’ve-been-crying red and puffy appearance was going anywhere.

  Denise continued as she embraced her son, “I’m really happy for you both. Don’t worry about your sister. I don’t blame you for waiting until after the wedding to tell her. She’s a bit high strung as it is. It may take a while for her to come around, but she will.”

  After another moment, Sophie heard the door shut, and Asher popped into the bathroom and leaned back against the counter. “Don’t you have to give a toast pretty soon?”

  Nodding bravely, Sophie checked her reflection one more time. Not quite as put together as she’d been a few hours ago, but she looked halfway decent.

  Shoring up her courage, Sophie led the way, Asher following right behind. At the door, she dropped his hand. Tomorrow would be much better, when they didn’t have to hide. This was stupidly stressful.

  As they entered the crowded barn, dusk was imminent, and the twinkling lights cast an enchanting glow on the room. Clinking his glass, Grady cleared his throat and began his toast. The room immediately stopped their reveries to listen. No wonder he was already a popular attorney in town despite being in practice little more than a year; his words, spoken in the rich tambour of his voice, were mesmerizing.

  Sophie wasn’t sure she could come close to matching that toast. A few fun lawyerly jokes, childhood stories, and hopes for the future. Damn, he was good. She’d had several toasts written and rewritten, stuffed in her coat pocket in the bridal suite. In the chaos, she’d forgotten her notes. She didn’t like any of them now anyway.

  Cheers rang out and glasses clanked together.

  Okay, here goes nothing.

  Walking up to the dessert table where the bride and groom waited, Grady flashed her an encouraging wink and handed her the glass he’d reserved for her. For all their issues a few days ago, he’d sure turned out to be a good friend now that the air was clear.

  The room went silent, waiting to hear her speak. Sophie had never had the ability to speak easily in front of a crowd, but she’d never feared public speaking either.

  “As Grady just described, we are all incredibly lucky to be
in the presence of such a beautiful union. I don’t have quite the oratory skills he has, so don’t mind me while I gulp down my champagne for courage,” she joked and took a big swig. She didn’t need it, but it bought her a second to collect her thoughts.

  Worked every time. The crowd chuckled right along with her, boosting her confidence the shred it needed so she could continue. “Alright. Ready now.”

  Sophie would like to think that she wowed them with her oratory prowess. Maybe, maybe not. She got a few laughs talking about the oddity of Washingtonians and their distaste for umbrellas. A few tears when she talked about how Lincoln and Pippa reunited and had fallen even more in love after the years spent apart.

  She’d seen Pippa and Lincoln take things so painfully slowly in their meticulous planning, she wouldn’t have been able to stand it. She’d been the result of a rushed, but devoted relationship, her parents marrying and having her when they were still children themselves. Although she hadn’t been old enough to notice, she’d heard stories of how the first year or two of settling in were rough on the young couple.

  Things between her and Asher had become so powerful, so quickly. But she was certain their love for each other was so very real. Perhaps the truth to a successful marriage was somewhere in between?

  Her gaze wandered to Asher standing a few feet away as she wrapped up her toast. “Falling in love is easy. Fostering a relationship that survives time and hardship… that’s a sign of a special bond.” Raising her glass, she saluted her friends, “To an enduring, loving marriage.”

  Pippa was watery eyed by the time she finished. Politely, they cut the cake, not smearing too much frosting on each other. Just enough to tenderly kiss away the stray frosting bits. Sophie had little doubt the adorable and non-messiness had been premeditated.

  Joining her as she backed away from the dessert table, Asher pulled her to stand with him for cake cutting and dancing. He whispered in her ear, distancing himself just far enough to avoid looking intimate. “Nicely done. But you forgot to give a special announcement to Pippa, ‘and please don’t kill me when I tell you I’ve completely fallen in love with your brother and plan to ride him like the stallion he is. All night long.’”