“He loves you. It’s so obvious. Maybe he’d welcome the chance to go through this with you. And hey.” She smiled when Sofia met her eyes. “Who’s to say that this time things won’t turn out perfect?”
“Brent told us you were pretty,” Sofia said. “He never mentioned you’re so nice.”
“I’m not being nice. I’m being honest.” The minute those words left her lips, Hope felt like the world’s hugest fraud. But the sympathy she felt for Sofia wasn’t manufactured. It was genuine.
Sofia heaved a sigh. “Maybe you’re right about William. I don’t know.” She took another sip of her soda and studied the darkened horizon past the low-burning glow of the firepit.
“Don’t worry about what you told me,” Hope said. “I can keep a secret.”
“That’s good,” Sofia said. “Because I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.”
“My thunder?”
“Girl, this is your wedding week. The attention should be on you.”
“There’s never a bad time for happy news,” Hope said. “But I understand your reasons for wanting to wait before telling your family.”
Sofia considered her a moment. “But not about me waiting to tell William?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, that’s true.”
“It’s a very personal decision,” Hope answered. “And we’ve only just met. I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to do.”
“You never told me. I was asking for your opinion.”
It honored Hope so much that Sofia would confide in her this way, and she badly didn’t want to blow their new connection. “I’d say listen to your heart. The heart wants what the heart wants.”
Sofia smiled. “Now where have I heard that expression before?”
“Grandmother Margaret,” they both said together and laughed.
“There you are,” William said, stepping through the French doors. “I was worried when you didn’t come back.” He stared down at the glass in her hand and then at the half-empty bottle of ginger ale on the table beside her. “Ginger ale?” His forehead crinkled with concern. “Sofia?”
“I’ll go and see if Grandmother Margaret needs help with the dishes,” Hope said, getting to her feet.
Then she left Sofia and William alone on the porch to discuss whatever it was Sofia decided her heart desired.
Moments later, she peered back through the French doors before entering the dining room. William had pulled Sofia out of her chair and into his arms, and both of them were crying.
Hope’s heart swelled with happiness as she said a silent prayer that everything would be all right. For Sofia. For William. For the three of them.
…
Derrick left shortly after dinner, and Sally excused herself to go upstairs. When Brent and Jackie entered the den to look for the others, neither William nor Sofia were anywhere in sight. Only a dim light emanated from the partially shut doors to the library, indicating that Chad and Margaret were probably still in there reading.
“Things are pretty quiet around here,” Jackie said. “It looks like my mom already headed back to the carriage house. Maybe we should call it a night?”
Getting some rest was probably a good idea, but Brent wasn’t ready to leave Jackie yet. They’d barely had any time alone together since their picnic, and Brent wanted more private time with his bride-to-be.
“It’s honestly not that late,” he said, checking the mantel clock and seeing it was just half past ten. “Are you maybe up for one more glass of wine?”
She hesitated a beat. “I don’t know, Brent.”
“It’s really nice out on the porch this time of evening,” he said. “As long as you wear a sweater.”
“I’m afraid my sweaters are down at the carriage house.”
“Then we can use one of these,” Brent said, snagging a soft throw blanket from the back of one of the loveseats. He shot her a grin. “Come on. We never did have that talk you promised me.”
“Talk?” Her forehead creased sweetly. “But we talked all afternoon on our picnic.”
“I’m talking about the other talk.” He teasingly lowered his eyebrows. “The one about our engagement?”
She gave a little laugh. “Oh yeah. That one.”
“Look at it this way,” he said. “This is our last night of freedom from the greater world before our cyber communications resume.”
“And we get back our phones!” she said with an elated gasp.
Brent wasn’t sure why it bothered him that she seemed so ecstatic about it.
He understood she had to stay on top of logistics for her business, as well as their wedding, but he honestly hadn’t missed the nearly constant buzzing of text messages in his pocket. He’d kind of enjoyed the singular buzz he caught from staring into Jackie’s gorgeous brown eyes. He’d never noticed how large they were or how captivating they could be before. Especially when she was looking at him—and appearing to adore him—the way she was now.
“Well, all right.” She shared a shy smile. “One little glass of wine probably won’t hurt.”
“I’ll pour, and you reserve the porch swing.”
He tossed her the blanket, and she caught it with a surprised chuckle. “Deal.”
…
Hope sat on the porch swing with the blanket draped around her as whistling winds wafted off of the water. The nearly full moon was high in the sky with a smattering of stars in the inky background beyond it.
Even from here, she could hear the low crackling from the firepit as its embers burned low, casting wavering shadows across the patio and the lawn. This place was so cozy. Despite its size, it still felt like a home.
Brent stepped out the door holding two glasses of wine. “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you’d prefer red or white. I noticed you drank pinot noir with dinner, so I brought us more of the same.”
“That’s perfect, thanks.” She accepted a wineglass from him, and Brent took a seat beside her on the porch swing. There was no escaping the fact that the setting was very romantic. “Do you want some of this blanket?” she offered as he settled in.
“Nope. I’m good, thanks. My thermostat runs high.” He grinned, and her pulse fluttered.
“That’s funny,” she said with a laugh. “I’m always cold.”