by Lauren Layne
“Sophie, hon, you have to be a member to play,” her dad said gently.
“Oh.” She’d forgotten that part. “Is that like really expensive or something?”
She already knew that a membership to their country club was out of the question. Especially since she was now unemployed. “Well, it’d be nice to be included as a guest once in a while,” she said softly.
“Sure, you can come with me anytime,” Brynn said smoothly. “I didn’t realize you still played.”
Probably because you’ve never bothered to ask.
“Where’s Will?” Marnie asked, setting a platter of avocado crostini in front of them. “These are his favorite. He’s usually here by now.”
Sophie snagged a piece of bread and got ready to drop her bomb. “Will moved to Boston.”
The reaction to this announcement would have been comical had she not been so annoyed with the lot of them. Marnie’s salad tongs were frozen in midair. Her father’s crostini seemed stuck halfway to his mouth. Brynn’s crystal wineglass was now in a million pieces at her feet.
“What do you mean, he’s moved to Boston?” Chris said as Marnie rushed to help Brynn clean up. “We just saw him last Sunday and he didn’t say a word about it.”
To me either, Sophie thought.
Will had come by last night to say good-bye, catching Sophie completely off guard. Her best friend was moving across the country and hadn’t breathed a word about it. In the span of a week he’d put his town house on the market, sold his car, hired movers, and signed a lease on an apartment in downtown Boston that he’d never even seen.
But it had taken about five seconds to see that this wasn’t a careless move.
Spontaneous, yes. Slightly insane, sure. But she knew Will better than anyone, and if he was making a move like this, it was for good reason. It had stung that he hadn’t been able to share that reason, but Sophie hadn’t pushed. She hadn’t exactly been spilling her guts to him lately either. Even the best of friends were allowed their secrets.
“He’s sorry he didn’t say good-bye,” Sophie said to her still-stunned family.
That Will hadn’t been able to stick around to say good-bye to her family still confused her. The Daltons were the only family Will had. She’d begged him to postpone his flight by a day to say good-bye in person, but he’d insisted he had to get to Boston immediately.
“Well, that’s just…just…I don’t know what to say,” her mother sputtered, speechless for once.
“He said he’ll be back someday, Mom,” Sophie said gently. “And I’m sure he’ll come visit.”
Marnie just shook her head and went back to dressing her salad with a shell-shocked expression. Chris returned to watching his baseball game with a forlorn look. Nobody else in the family could tolerate his reciting of sports stats like Will could.
Brynn was washing spilled wine off her hands. Or at least that’s what she was supposed to be doing. It looked a lot like staring out the window looking ready to puke while letting the water run.
“You okay, Brynny?” Sophie asked.
“What? Oh, sure. Did Will say why?”
Sophie shook her head. “Nope. Maybe he just wanted a fresh start.”
Her sister remained silent.
“Brynn, the water?” her mother said.
“Oh, right,” she muttered, returning to the task of washing her hands.
Marnie and Sophie exchanged a puzzled look. What was that all about? If anything, Brynn should be happy to get Will out of her life. It’s not like there was any love lost between those two. Sophie shrugged at her mom. She’d pester Brynn about it later. And from the wrinkles on Brynn’s normally perfectly smooth forehead, whatever was eating at her was going to be juicy.
Without Will’s easy, carefree presence to diffuse the usual Dalton stuffiness, the evening had a strained, stilted vibe. Marnie seemed to be still miffed with Sophie, although Sophie wasn’t sure it was for being tardy, the hole in her jeans, or the fact that she’d defended herself instead of apologizing.
Brynn continued to do the strange moody thing that really didn’t look good on her.
These were the types of evenings that the old Sophie would take charge of, sprinkling little bits of false cheer.
But not tonight. She didn’t have it in her. No matter how many times she told herself not to think about Gray (at least fourteen times every minute), she kept seeing the blank look in his silver eyes when she’d walked away from him.
She also kept seeing herself as she’d spent the weekend, wearing her baggiest pink sweats, eating nothing but corn chips and waiting for the phone to ring. It hadn’t.
The four of them shoveled food in robotic silence, until uncharacteristically, it was Sophie’s dad who finally tried to break the icy silence.
“Excellent roast, Marn,” he said as he sawed furiously at the dry piece of meat. Sophie rolled her eyes. The roast wasn’t even close to excellent. Sophie missed the days when her mother had worked full-time and they’d had a housekeeper who put perfectly passable casseroles in the oven. But since retirement had left Marnie feeling useless, she’d filled the void by buying a library’s worth of cookbooks.
Money would have been better spent on cooking lessons on how to actually use said cookbooks.
Sophie poked at an underseasoned potato and wished Brynn would bring one of her perfect boyfriends over more often. At least then Marnie tried to cook something other than a massive chunk of meat left to dry out in the oven for hours.
But Brynn hadn’t brought anyone over since that disastrous dinner with Gray.
Just look how that had turned out.
“Sophie, about your new job…” Chris said when Marnie failed to preen over his dinner praise. “I’ve been thinking, I bet a company like that would help pay to put you through business school. Then you could actually be one of the big guns instead of just working for them.”
As her father’s words penetrated her brain, Sophie let out a hysterical little laugh that had all three family members staring at her warily.
“I don’t think so, Dad.”
Chris looked disappointed, but not surprised. Marnie’s lips pressed into a thin line. Sophie waited patiently for a follow-up question she knew wouldn’t come.
So you like your job, then?
What about the other areas of your life?
How’s Gray? What’s going on there?
As expected, nobody spared her a second thought once they’d established she wasn’t angling to be CEO, and conversation turned to Brynn’s latest patient, who had an entire extra set of teeth.
Sophie quietly watched her family, feeling as though she was viewing them from a great distance.
There was her mother with her composed “interested” face as she listened to her successful older daughter discuss maxillary lateral incisors. And here was Sophie’s dad, nodding knowledgeably, even though Sophie was pretty sure he’d never had to get near a maxillary whatever during his days of sewing up appendices and ruptured spleens.
Last, Sophie studied Brynn, whose placid smile didn’t reach her eyes as she recited words Sophie didn’t know. None of the words were fewer than fifteen letters.
This can’t possibly be what Brynn wants out of her life, Sophie thought. It’s certainly not what I want.
Sophie’s fork clattered noisily to her plate, startling everyone into silence.
“Sophie, that’s expensive china,” her mother said with an exasperated look.
“And it’s fine, Mother. Even if it weren’t fine, this is the most predictable pattern in all of yuppie America and it’s a plate. It’s replaceable.”
Marnie’s mouth dropped open slightly, but Sophie was already moving on to her next target.
“And Brynn? Noooobody cares about the incline of Tiffany so-and-so’s molars. I mean, do you even care?”
Finally, she turned to her father. “Dad, no daughter wants to disappoint her father, and I’m tired of doing it over and over, so let’s just have
it out once and for all. I’m never going to be a lawyer. Or a doctor, or some high-level executive. I appreciate that you gave me the opportunities and education to make those things possible, but it’s just not the path for me.”
“Soph, you say that now, but…”
“I’m almost twenty-eight, Dad. Still young, but hardly some dewy college student trying to figure out what to do with my life.”
“And what are you doing with your life, Sophie?” her mother asked. “Serving cocktails? Now you’re spending your days making copies and fetching coffee…”
Sophie held up one finger. “Actually, that last bit isn’t quite true any longer. I quit.”
The number of stunned silences at this lovely family dinner was starting to get comical, and Sophie almost smiled.
“But why?” her father asked. “It’s only been a few months…”
Sophie shrugged. “Because I was shagging my boss and it got complicated.”
Another of those silences. “You and Gray?” Marnie mused. “I never would have thought…”
“That he’d be interested in me?” Sophie finished for her mother. “Yeah, me neither. Turns out we were both right.”
Sophie’s righteous fury had been briefly exhilarating, but saying Gray’s name out loud had taken the wind out of her sails and she felt her anger slip away to reveal what it had been hiding all along. Pain.
“That’s not what I meant,” Marnie said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. “I didn’t think you’d ever be interested in someone like him. He was so…formal.”
“Not so much,” Sophie whispered. “Not underneath.”
Brynn came around to Sophie’s side and knelt by her chair, wrapping a comforting arm around her waist. “I’m sorry, Soph. What happened?”
Sophie scanned her sister’s face. “Aren’t you upset? I mean, I slept with your ex. That’s a sibling no-no.”
Brynn rolled her eyes. “Please. The only reason I was even remotely upset when we broke up was because it was an inconvenience. And I think I knew on some level that you two had…well, something.”
Sophie’s eyes watered at the unexpected acceptance. “You’re a better person than me.”
“Never,” Brynn said, squeezing her hand. “Now tell us what happened.”
“About what you’d expect. He just saw me as a temporary toy.”
“And you? How’d you feel about him?”
Sophie rolled her eyes up to look at the ceiling in an effort to keep the tears from falling. “Oh, you know. True love, and all that nonsense.”
The dishes rattled as Chris pushed back roughly from the table. “Where does this guy live? Nobody makes my Sophie cry.”
Sophie let out a watery laugh. “Thanks, Dad, but it wasn’t his fault. Just one of those things that didn’t work out.”
She tried to take another bite, but let her fork drop again. “You know, I think I’m going to go home. Sorry to ruin dinner.”
Her parents nodded, looking uncomfortably out of their depth. She didn’t blame them, not really. The Dalton family didn’t communicate in scenes and tears. But before she let them off the hook, she had one more thing to say.
“You know, getting rejected by a guy who doesn’t think I’m good enough is one thing. I can move on from that. Eventually. But you guys are my family. I shouldn’t have to try so hard to be good enough. It should be enough for you guys that I’m happy, even if I’m not impressive.”
“Sophie, you know we love you,” her mom said, looking on the verge of tears.
“Yeah, I know, Mom. But I need that love to stop being so judgmental.”
“I’m not—”
“Yeah, you are. If it’s not my jeans, it’s my hair, or my job, or my friends, or my hobbies. I’m never going to be Brynn. Stop trying to make me.”
Brynn shifted awkwardly. “Don’t bring me into this.”
“I love you both equally,” Marnie said, her voice wavering.
“I know,” Sophie said, letting her voice soften. “Respect us equally too, okay? And if you don’t, fine, I guess. But I’m done caring about it, so get used to these jeans.”
Sophie gave her dad a hug, which he stiffly returned, and she planted a kiss on the top of her mom’s blonde head.
The parental units weren’t exactly vomiting out apologies, but they looked thoughtful. Maybe that was something.
Brynn followed Sophie out to the front door and watched in silence as Sophie put her shoes on. There were things to be said between them as well, but Brynn seemed to sense that Sophie had reached her emotional conversation quota for the evening.
“Call me later?” Brynn said after Sophie had grabbed her purse.
“Sure. Probably tomorrow.”
They hugged, and Brynn tucked a wayward curl behind Sophie’s ear. “Soph, you know all that stuff you were saying about just wanting to be happy?”
Sophie nodded.
“Well…are you happy?”
Sophie looked out at the pouring rain and considered. “No. Not yet. But I’m learning how to be.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Sophie was secure enough with herself to be able to admit her worst faults. The most prevalent flaw at the moment? Complete cowardice.
“Thanks again for meeting me,” Sophie said to Beth Jennings as they stood outside the Brayburn Luxuries office building. “I know that coming down on a Saturday night isn’t ideal, but I couldn’t make it earlier in the week and I need to pick up my stuff before Monday.”
She hated lying to Beth, but coming on a Saturday was the only way Sophie could retrieve the belongings she’d left in the office without risk of running into Gray.
“No problem,” Beth said as she buzzed open the front door. Sophie still had her key to the Brayburn office suites, but she’d lost electronic access to the building on the day she’d quit.
“Do you mind if I leave you here?” Beth asked, holding the door open for Sophie. “My friends invited me for a last-minute drink at a bar just up the street, and I’d love to meet up with them before it gets too late.”
“Oh! Of course,” Sophie said, guiltily. “Are you sure it’s okay if I just let myself up?”
“Sure,” Beth said with a shrug. “A little against protocol, but it’ll be our little secret. Just leave the keys in your desk drawer and I’ll grab them on Monday. Rachel packed all of your personal stuff into a box, but you may want to take a quick look around and make sure she didn’t forget anything.”
“Will do. And thanks again for coming all the way down here. I owe you one.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’d do the same for me. Hug?”
Sophie smiled and embraced her friend. Waving one last good-bye to Beth with a promise to stay in touch, she headed toward the elevator. Hitting the button for the fourteenth floor for the last time, Sophie waited for the usual wave of bittersweet emotions to hit her. She was well practiced at leaving jobs, and the series of emotions was always the same.
Regret at leaving new friends.
Excitement about future opportunities.
Doubt that she was making the right choice.
This time, she experienced the expected first and second emotion, and she braced herself for the third. It was always the worst.
But the doubt never came. She was making the right decision in leaving. There was no “maybe” this time. She’d enjoyed her time at Brayburn, save for the painful last day, but she’d never belonged here. She’d never invested herself, never let it define her, never let herself excel.
Sophie had nothing but respect for assistants and corporate staff of all natures, because it was a hell of a lot harder than people knew. But it wasn’t her passion. It was time to move on.
The past weeks since leaving Brayburn had been the most enlightened of Sophie’s life. It had been painful to realize that her chronic job-hopping had never been about spontaneity and following her heart. It had merely been a method of avoiding herself.
She’d spent years su
rfing on a wave of ambiguity over what to do with her life, which she should have tackled after graduation. But instead, she’d just avoided it. By never investing in anything, she could never be accused of failing. Never be disappointed.
But no more. It hadn’t taken much reflection to realize that she didn’t like office buildings and paperwork and suits. Didn’t like staplers or copy machines or multi-line phones. Hell, aesthetics aside, she didn’t even really like high-heeled shoes.
The only aspect she’d liked about this environment had been the people. Sophie loved people. She loved watching them, talking with them, learning them. And she could admit now that she was damn good with them. The highlight of her time at Brayburn had been discovering what made people like the Blackwells tick. Seeing them as people instead of clients. As personalities instead of customers.
People were her passion, and she knew in her gut that this new insight was her path to true job satisfaction.
Granted, she still didn’t know exactly what that meant career-wise. Therapist, milkman, teacher?
But she had a little money saved up. Enough to provide a financial buffer while she figured it out. She’d gotten so adept at not being what other people expected her to be, that she’d failed to figure out what she wanted to be.
Stepping off the elevator, Sophie took a deep breath. This was the part she’d been dreading. Seeing Gray’s office again. Seeing the place of his first smile, their first fight, their first kiss.
Their last words.
Refusing to look toward Gray’s darkened office, Sophie marched to her desk with a mission.
Grab the box and get out. Fast.
She took a quick glance through the contents of the box. The potted orchid that Brynn had bought her, which Sophie had barely managed to keep alive. A condom from Will, “just in case.” A picture of her family. Some sort of fancy pen from her father that Sophie had never used for fear of losing or breaking it.
Her hand hesitated as she picked up the last item. It was the small bowl of creamers she kept at her desk to ensure Gray’s coffee was always perfect. She cringed, remembering how much she’d treasured his small half smiles when she’d gotten it just right.