Her head falls to the side as she thinks about my question. It takes her longer than I expect to answer me. Just as I’m about to press on, she speaks.
“I don’t know. I just started doing it when I got back from Florida. Gramma had just died, and I was bored, I guess. Babar got sick, and I took him in—”
“He was a real dog, then?”
She sticks her tongue out at me. “Yes. He was a real dog. I told you that.”
“Okay. You also told me he was your current pet.”
“I never said that directly. But that’s not the point. The point is that I had Babar with me and heard Fred mention to Dottie that he had to find someone to clean. So I volunteered.”
She holds her hand up in the air. The diamond on her finger catches the light and shines like it’s some kind of beacon.
“Point well made,” I say, trying not to focus on the sparkler I just gave her. The sight of it on her finger throws me a bit, and I can’t quite nail down why.
Sophie leans forward and flips on the radio. The beat is smooth, the singer’s voice soft and nearly hypnotic. I find myself strumming my fingers against my leg as we glide along the highway.
The sun slips on the horizon as we near Honey Creek. Purples and pinks flood the sky, and it reminds me of Sophie’s flowers earlier today. I glance at her to see if she might be thinking the same thing, but she’s turned toward the window and away from me.
I wonder how much of this adventure will be a mainstay of my life going forward. Will I always think of her when the sky looks like this or I spot a rose? Will a bag full of candy spark memories of this crazy ride today that began with me as a bachelor and ended with a wife? Will I hear a woman’s laugh or a tease in a voice in the middle of a crowd and think of Sophie Bates?
Just like I do my mother.
I regrip the steering wheel as I think about what Mom would say about this. There’s a niggling in my soul that tells me she’d love it. She’d love Sophie, no doubt. But I think she’d like this going-off-script idea, doing something off the wall to see if it works. She was fun like that. Always saw the bigger picture. When she was alive, she balanced Dad. Without her, things shifted the other way.
He, unlike her, would chalk this up to a grave miscalculation. Which is why I’m not telling him.
Sophie turns to me as we pass the welcome sign to Honey Creek.
“You doing all right?” I ask her.
“Will you quit asking me that?”
“I’m being polite.”
“You’re annoying,” she says, but softens it with a smile. “It makes me nervous when you ask me if I’m okay. Like, should I not be? What can I even do about it if I’m not?”
I hold a hand in the air. “Okay. Fine. I won’t ask.”
“Good.” She sucks in a breath. “I’m just focusing on all the things I can do once the taxes are paid.”
I don’t care what she’s going to do. It’s none of my business, and I won’t be around to see it come to fruition anyway. But I get the sense that she needs to talk about it, so I bite.
“Like what?” I ask.
“I want to build a gazebo for weddings. And paint the bedrooms. And fix the pipes upstairs so they don’t squeak.” She bites a fingernail. “I also have considered getting a fancy marketing package from this company out of Nashville that Haley knows. She hooked up a bed-and-breakfast in Dogwood Lane with it, and their reservations tripled.”
“Wow. That’s a good sign. What’s your vacancy rate now?”
She sighs. “Well, it’s very seasonal. We get lots of people in the summer and a fair number in spring and fall. If all goes right, I’ll get a little bump in a few weeks once the leaves start to change. It’s really feast-or-famine in this business.”
“Gotcha.”
We pass Tank’s and start the final descent to the Honey House. As we get to the bottom of the hill, Sophie sits up in a panic.
“Oh shit,” she says, gripping the dashboard.
I ease my foot off the accelerator.
The Honey House is lit up like it’s at full capacity. Cars line the streets on both sides. Some are even parked on the lawn. Liv’s driveway is full too.
“What the hell?” I scan the porch and try to make out the letters dangling from a colored ribbon. “Oh fuck.”
CONGRATULATIONS is spelled out plain as day with balloons capping off each end.
“How did they know?” I ask.
Sophie falls back in the seat, covering her eyes with her hand. “Beats me. Liv, maybe? Jobe? No, I don’t think Jobe . . .” She sighs. “Dottie? I don’t know.”
“What do we do?”
“What can we do?”
I rack my brain for ideas. No matter what I can come up with, the result is the same: we have to face this sooner or later. And although we preferred later, we can’t put it off forever.
I whip the car into the driveway into the single slot left open. A WELCOME HOME sign is stuck on a pole that almost touches the bumper as I shut the car off.
The cab is so quiet I can hear Sophie’s quick breaths.
My stomach twists in a knot as I try to figure out how to sell this to her.
“Hey,” I say softly. “We’re okay. This might even be fun.”
She slow blinks.
“What? It might. Let’s just go in and get it over with.”
“It’s not like we have a choice,” she says.
“Even if we did—let’s say we didn’t have to go in there at some point—we still should. They’re happy for you.”
She takes a long, shaky breath and looks out the window.
“Look, we got this,” I say, drawing her attention to me. I give her a smile. “Me and you. We’re in this together. Nobody in there knows what’s happening—”
“Except Liv.”
“Except Liv. And Liv gave me your grandmother’s ring, so I’m pretty sure she’s on Team McKenzie right now.”
This helps. A small smile washes across her lips.
“Now let’s go in there and live it up. It’s a free party,” I say, elbowing her in the shoulder. “There might be cake. Who doesn’t love cake?”
“I like cake,” she says, giving in.
“Right? And music. And . . .”
She gasps. “Pie. Birdie might have made pie.”
“Let’s hope, because nobody wants her buttercream.”
Sophie laughs. The worry lines around her eyes vanish as she shakes her head. “Okay. Fine. You got me. Let’s do this.”
“Let’s do this.”
We both pause, unprompted, and exchange a look. I can’t put my finger on what it means. Solidarity? Maybe understanding. I don’t know. But I do know that tonight might just be the fun I didn’t know I needed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SOPHIE
The house is lit up on the inside, but I can’t see anyone through the windows. Noise filters around from the backyard, and I figure that’s where everyone has congregated.
At least I hope so. I hope they aren’t in my house.
Holden meets me at the front of the car. “What do you think?”
“I think my sister has a lot of explaining to do.”