by Jody Holford
“You could have asked me yourself,” Sophia replied.
Her mom nodded and came out from behind the counter. Regardless of anything going on, Sophia welcomed her mother’s embrace. There was something so intensely comforting and soothing in it. The scent of rosemary and talcum powder filled her senses, and she squeezed tighter.
Her mother whispered in her ear, “You’re okay? And the baby?”
“We’re fine, Mama.”
Pulling back, her mother inspected her from head to foot. “You need food. Carlos, make my Sophia a twelve-inch pie, light sauce, pepperoni, red peppers, and fresh basil.”
Sophia beamed. “Nice memory.”
She patted Sophia’s cheek. “Mothers remember. Viola, Rosie, join us. Ask Lara to finish up her break.”
Her mother might defer to her father on certain things, but she had no problem being the boss.
“Mom. Stop. I just came to say hi. You don’t need to feed me or stop working.” Her stomach rumbled, loudly, at that precise moment.
“Go, sit. I’ll get you ginger ale. Any sickness?”
It shouldn’t have surprised her that her mother had gone from zero to sixty, but after so long without being a regular part of her life, it felt both foreign and familiar. And good. Dammit.
“Hey,” Vi said, lifting the glasses of soda, which appeared to be ginger ale. “On it, Mama.”
Rosie brought over two more, and the four women went to the corner booth closest to the kitchen. Sophia’s throat tightened when she thought of how many days she’d sat at this booth, one of her siblings irritating her or helping her with homework. Her father cooked more then, and her mother ran the front of the house. Even when they weren’t working, they were always there. It was, in a way, more of a home than where she’d grown up.
Sliding into the booth, Viola sat next to her, her mom and Rosie across from them. Her nerves had already settled, and she knew it was because her father wasn’t there. She hated that she still felt that way but refused to take all of the blame.
“You guys could have asked me to come instead of going through Declan,” Sophia said again.
Viola laughed. “That was Rosie’s idea. We wanted to see how deep in you two were. She said if he responded and brought you that you two were in love.” She made a show of drawing out the word love, and her mother smacked her hand, telling her to behave, making the other two laugh.
“We should have phoned you sooner. I have soup for you. I was going to bring it to you. But you aren’t at Declan’s. Which is good. He should marry you first.”
Rosie rolled her eyes dramatically, but her mother didn’t see. Sophia grinned.
“Mom, you know it’s not his baby, right?”
Viola groaned. Her mother nodded, her lips tight.
Leaning in, Rosie covered Sophia’s hand. “Vi and I had horrible morning sickness. You feeling okay?”
“I feel fine.” Mostly, she did.
“You look tired. You’re spending too much time in the bar?”
Sophia laughed. “It’s my job, Mom. I am tired. But I think that comes with the territory. So.” She paused. Then found her courage. “Is this how it’s going to be? I get to see you guys when Dad and Marcus aren’t around? And when the baby comes, too? Because I’m not sure I’m up for that.”
“Jesus, Sophe. Way to ease in,” Viola said.
“Don’t swear,” her mom scolded Vi. She looked at Sophia. “It’s not how it should be. It’ll happen, but we needed to smooth the way. I needed to sit down with my daughters.”
Around them, families chatted and laughed. The waitress, presumably Lara, flitted between tables but left them to themselves. Laughter and music rang from the kitchen. Comforting sensations, but little tendrils of unease wrapped around her ribs.
Feeling defensive, Sophia stared at her glass, running her index finger up and down the cool plastic. “I never meant to disappoint you guys so much. However this turns out, know that.”
Rosie squeezed her hand again and scooted closer on the curved bench. Viola leaned her head on her shoulder, and though she didn’t like how long it had taken, she appreciated the show of support from both of her sisters. Better late than never was something she could identify with.
“What’s up, Mama?” Rosie asked.
“I didn’t want to marry your father,” their mother said in a quiet, monotone voice.
All three girls gasped in surprise, then looked around to make sure no one was paying attention.
Their mom waved her hands, shushing them. “No drama. Listen to my story. Maybe you’ll understand more why I let things go the way they did. You were always different from your siblings. Always wanted to pave your own way. I wanted that, too. For myself. I wanted to find an American man and marry him. I wanted to go to college. But your father, he was the man my parents chose. I didn’t argue, never thought to. I swallowed my feelings. I liked your father well enough. But he was more like the annoying boy next door than a…what do you say? Lover?”
Rosie snickered. “Please don’t say that again.”
Their waitress brought over the pie and slid it onto the table, leaving plates and napkins before leaving them alone again.
While they waited for the pizza to cool, their mother settled into her story again.
“I did what my parents told me to do,” she began, folding her hands on the table.
“I couldn’t have married if I wasn’t in love,” Viola said quietly.
“Me neither. And Marcus has been crazy about Michelle his entire life. He tried to marry her when they were eight.”
Sharing laughter and memories eased some of the ache that had built up over the years.
“I didn’t know it could be different,” their mom continued. “I married him. We started a life. I got pregnant right away. Your father, he’s a good man. He’s funny and kind. Living with him, being married to him, I don’t even remember when it happened, but I fell in love with him. Real love. The kind that gives you a solid foundation to build a family, to watch your parents pass away, to raise those children and run a business together. The kind that sustains you when someone is sick or injured. The kind that spreads and bonds like glue. And the more I loved him, the more in love I was. Like the girls in those fairy tales you used to watch. I had my prince. I just didn’t realize it.”
When Sophia glanced at her sisters, they too were teary eyed. Their mother had never told them this. They’d all assumed their parents were in love and that was part of why they’d married so young.
“You and Daddy are special,” Viola said.
“And very lucky,” Sophia added.
“Yes. So, I thought, this is how it works. I didn’t know best. My parents did. They saw what I couldn’t see because even though you feel like you can take on the world at eighteen, you don’t know all of the things you need to know. Not about life and not about love.”
Her mom picked up her pizza and took a bite, so the girls did the same. She’d explain in her own time. The song over the speakers spoke of not knowing how to move on from someone, about falling back into someone’s arms, and Sophia couldn’t help but think of Declan. She didn’t want to know how to get over him. The way she felt about him confirmed something she had long suspected. She’d never truly loved Keith. If she’d married him, she probably wouldn’t have stayed married. Odd that the only way to recognize what love really looked and felt like was to find the person you were meant to share it with.
Her mom took a sip of her soda and sighed. “Your siblings, they were easy. They fell in love young with people who wanted to be part of our lives. There was no drama, no worries. You, Sophia. You’ve always been different.”
She wouldn’t feel shame for that. Locking eyes with her mother, intending to be strong, she realized her mother wasn’t saying it as an insult. Pride shone in her eyes.
“It was hard for me to watch, the way you and your father butted heads, but I always thought, let it be, they’ll be okay, they’ll find their
way. But then you left. Oh, I was so angry at him for chasing you away.”
Sophia leaned forward and gripped her mom’s hand. “He didn’t, mom. I left because I’d always wanted to. It wasn’t about you guys. I never meant to hurt you.”
She patted Sophia’s hand and then went back to her pizza, but she only picked at the toppings. “I didn’t know that then. I do now.”
“We should have done a better job keeping in touch, Sophia, made more of an effort to phone and text you rather than you always having to reach out. It was unfair. We’re sorry,” Viola said.
Tears clogged Sophia’s throat. “We can’t go back. And you guys aren’t the only ones who are sorry.” She swallowed down the lump. “There were a lot of things I could have done differently. I was so determined to run, to prove something, I didn’t stop to think how you’d all feel.” She spent so much time feeling abandoned and isolated, like the injured party. It was time to recognize her role in all of it. “I just want to move forward knowing my family is there. And I want you guys to realize I’m there, too. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Rosie smiled at her through watery eyes. “Always there. We’re sorry we’ve sucked at proving it.”
“I’m not finished,” her mom said.
For the first time in ten years, the three sisters exchanged a yes, mom glance, and the warmth of it chased off the chill Sophia had been feeling.
“My parents did know better, or maybe they just got lucky that I fell in love with your father, more likely they didn’t care if I did. I thought if we guided you—”
“Strong-armed,” Sophia mumbled.
Her mother pursed her lips. “Don’t interrupt. I thought we were doing what was best for you. Tough love and all that. Would have worked for any of my other kids. Not for my Sophia. Now we’ve lost ten years. No more.”
“We didn’t lose them, Mama. It’s not like I haven’t spoken to you in ten years. It could have been more. We all could have done more.”
“Clean slate.” Her mom picked up her pizza like they hadn’t just put ten years to rest and healed a piece of Sophia’s heart.
She did the same, and the mood shifted, lightened. Just like that. Because Mama deemed it so. Sophia grinned. Maria Strombi had more power than she was willing to admit.
The crowd in the pizzeria thinned, and soon it was just the four of them and the staff.
They’d finished their pizza, thanked Lara for clearing their plates, and were chatting about Viola and Rosie’s kids. Sophia was doing her best not to take notes about what could be updated and improved in the restaurant.
“Where’s the father of the baby, Sophia?” Her mother’s intense glare and sharp tone surprised her. She’d been waiting to ask the question.
“I told you I was engaged. I asked all of you to come to Arizona and meet him. I’m glad you never did. I didn’t know it, but he was married. His wife lived in El Paso, and he traveled for business. It was easy for him to live two lives.”
“Holy shit,” Viola said.
“Language,” her mother reminded.
“What a son of a bitch. Don’t comment on my language, Mom. I kept it clean. Trust me, I’m thinking worse.” Rosie put her arm around Sophia.
“And now you love Declan?” her mom asked, making her sound fickle.
Her heart jumped up and down wanting to shout hell yes to the question. But she knew it was a poor judge of many things.
“I care about him. A lot. I know it seems fast—”
“Dec’s hot. And sweet. Pretty easy to fall for,” Rosie said.
“I fell in love with Gavin about twenty minutes after I met him. We were at an outdoor concert, and he noticed I couldn’t see, asked if I wanted to go in front of him. He waited six months to ask me to marry him, but I knew by the end of the night he was my forever.”
Their mom smiled at the conversation. “And Declan?”
Like a dog with its favorite bone, her mother wouldn’t let it go, so Sophia sighed and gave in. “He says he wants it all. The baby and me. It seems impossible to reconcile the boy we all grew up crushing on with the man he’s become.”
Her mom reached across the table and took both of Sophia’s hands. Sophia bit the inside of her cheek, her fingers trembling as emotions coursed through her body.
“You haven’t had a lot of reason to believe in men, mia ragazza, but don’t use that as an excuse not to follow your heart. I know I haven’t encouraged that before, but you have to be you. There’s no reason not to believe Declan. He’s a good boy.”
Sophia laughed, a tear sliding down her cheek. She swiped at it. “He is that.”
And so much more. Maybe it was time she told him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Declan stopped bringing up the idea of Sophia moving home, as he wanted her to call it. She’d come in her own time, he knew, and the more he pushed, the harder she’d stall.
She was scared. Hell, he was, too, but not enough to stop him from going for what he wanted. The bar was doing great business. She’d added a three-style slider to the lunch menu—a suggestion from Parker and Garrett—and the crowd loved it.
Declan glanced at Damon, who was currently enjoying said special and a pint of beer. He had a few hours before he played this evening but came in early to eat and “hang” as he’d explained.
“You need anything else?”
Damon shook his head. “Nah, man. This is awesome. Compliments to the chef,” he said.
“I’ll let him know you said so.”
Beth, a new hire, was handling the floor with ease, and his next waitress would be showing up in about an hour. He leaned back against the bar, taking it all in, and smiled. Sophia was good for business, good for him. They hadn’t managed their third date yet, but he had something planned for tonight. The door to the bar opened, and a rush of cool February air blew Taylor in. She smiled and waved, stomping the light dusting of snow off her boots.
“Hey. You don’t usually come in midweek,” Declan said, grabbing a glass to pour her a soda.
Undoing her long jacket, she set it on a bar stool and took the one next to it. She smoothed out her long blond hair and with a big sigh flattened her palms on the bar.
“Wow. It’s blustery out there,” she said, a wide smile on her pretty face.
“I thought only Winnie the Pooh and grandmas said that,” Declan said, setting the drink in front of her.
Taylor laughed and picked up the drink. “Thanks. You might be right. Maybe that’s why I can’t get a date.” Her cheeks had a rosy flush to them, and her laugh was the kind a man wanted to bring out in a woman. Not him, but it had always surprised him that Taylor hadn’t found the one. Turning, he caught Damon looking at her and arched a brow. Something brotherly rumbled around in his chest at the musician’s show of interest. Taylor could damn well find someone who wasn’t a guitar playing hotshot with slick hair and slick looks. That didn’t show up at a bar three hours early for a gig. Jesus, man. You own the bar. He’s a good guy.
“You could get a date, Tay. You’re just picky. Rightfully so,” Declan said, still staring at Damon, who’d met his gaze. An amused expression lit the guy’s eyes.
“Hey Taylor!” Sophia showed up out of nowhere and joined them.
Declan turned, his instincts making him lean in to take her mouth. She let him, but laughed and patted his chest.
“You are the absolute worst at no PDA at work.”
He chuckled and nuzzled her neck, touching his mouth to her ear. “Stop looking like you do and it won’t be so hard.”
Leaning back, she looked up at him, and the heat in her eyes turned him on almost as much as the affection he saw there.
“I’m about to order food here. Too much of this is going to turn my stomach,” Taylor teased.
Sophia swatted Declan, then grabbed a glass and filled it with water. “See, you’re upsetting the customers.”
“Taylor isn’t a customer,” Declan argued.
“So, my m
eal is free?” She smiled at him.
“Uh. Yeah. Sure. But not what I meant.”
“I’m teasing, Dec. I just sold three more tables and a dresser. I can afford your new special, which is exactly what I’m craving.”
“I’ll ring it in.”
“Oh, me, too!” Sophia’s eyes brightened comically, and Declan stroked a hand down her hair.
“Really? Or are you not going to want it by the time I put it in front of you?”
She stuck her tongue out at him and walked out from behind the bar, joining Taylor on one of the stools between her and Damon.
“The baby can’t make up its mind,” Sophia explained to Taylor.
Declan punched buttons on the computer, ordering both women food. “Yeah. It’s the baby.”
Taylor laughed. “You two are adorable. You’d think you’d been together twenty years.”
He caught Sophia’s blush, and his heart pumped harder, vibrating off his rib cage. A couple of years ago, the idea of twenty years with a woman— even with a mortgage—would have made parts of him freeze up. Not anymore. Right this minute, looking at her gorgeous face, the way her dark hair fell over her shoulders and her eyes locked on his, twenty didn’t seem like enough.
“Go back to work,” Sophia said softly, making Dec feel like they were the only two people in the room. Since they weren’t, she was probably right.
He filled a couple of orders for Beth while listening to Sophia and Taylor talk.
“You filled everything out?” Sophia asked.
“Yeah, the online form is super easy. I’m still not sure, though.” Taylor looked down at the bar as if somehow the shiny surface was fascinating.
“It’ll be fun. If nothing else, you get to meet a bunch of people and hang out,” Sophia said.
Dec knew, no matter how much she wanted her matchmaking venture to work, she wouldn’t push Taylor if she was truly uncomfortable.
“Dec? Can I get a soda?” Damon called from the end of the bar. It curved a little, so he wasn’t sitting in the women’s line of sight.
Sophia turned, seeing him for the first time. “Hi, Damon. I didn’t even know you were here. How are you?”