Sophia put up a hand. “Let me explain—”

  “Please. Go ahead.”

  The girls were playing with Hershee in the adjoining family room, which she imagined gave him a little time.

  “Okay, look, I’m not divorced. It was just something I kept putting off until I’d waited so long, I didn’t see the point.”

  “You let everyone believe you were divorced. Remember that time at dinner, your dad asked whether you’d taken care of the papers the lawyer sent, and you said … I think your exact words were something like, ‘All taken care of, Daddy-o.’ I’m paraphrasing.”

  “I said that because it was going be taken care of soon, and I meant it at the time, but then I misplaced the papers. I found them again when I moved, and it seemed like maybe they might have expired. Or something.”

  Scott smirked over his coffee mug. “You know you’re going to have to explain all this to your dad.”

  “I have plenty of time to do that.”

  Scott glanced at his watch. “I’d say about twelve hours, give or take.”

  “What?”

  “He and my mom are headed back home. I told them not to come, because we have you, Mandy, and we have Diana’s mother nearby, but my mom insisted they cut their trip short. She wants to be nearby so she can help out in case Diana needs to be on extended bed rest. A strong possibility.” He gazed at his bouncing girls and sighed. “So, get ready. You have some ‘splaining to do.”

  Gulp. She so did. But you know what? It would be all right because as it happened, Daddy-o also believed in true love, romance, and great Italian food. He too was a real romantic, in love with love. Just not necessarily crazy about Riley. But after over a decade as a widower, her father had suddenly fallen in love with Eileen, a woman ten years his senior. If that wasn’t a testament to the belief in romance and happily ever after, what was? Sophia would just have to gently explain that she didn’t believe in divorce any more than he or Mama had. That when, and if, she divorced Riley it would have to be her decision and she wouldn’t do it under pressure from her family.

  After Scott and the girls left, Sophia showered and made a decision. She cleaned the kitchen, scrubbed the table (with bleach) and packed a lunch. Slices of Gouda cheese, salami, multi-grain crackers, a loaf of rye bread, mustard, green pimento olives and Angie’s pasta salad. A bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from Brooke and Billy’s stash, one she’d been saving for a special occasion. She was headed to have lunch with her husband. He now had office hours like a regular Joe, and she knew exactly where to find him. She definitely had to talk to him and the sooner the better. If Daddy-o and Eileen were headed home and she would have to explain everything, better to know exactly where she stood with Riley.

  Did he or did he not want kids? Because that was a deal-breaker, no matter how much he might say he loved her. If they wanted different lives, her now more mature twenty-nine-year-old brain realized that she’d never be happy in the long run. It could never work. Not for her. The sooner she got this information the better it would be, even if the thought of asking him terrified her. It had been such a point of contention in the past.

  She drove to the small police station at the edge of town, just on the other side of the street from Firehouse 54. While she’d been down to the firehouse a few times before, she couldn’t say she’d ever been to the police station. The old brick building stood in sharp contrast to most of the stucco ones in the area, but she’d learned a while ago from Bert that it had originally been the first newspaper printing offices.

  Carrying her picnic basket in one hand, she pushed open the heavy glass door with the other one.

  “Hi, Jennifer,” Sophia said.

  Jennifer used to come by Gen’s bakery on a regular basis and back when Sophia used to work part-time for Gen, she’d waited on her dozens of times.

  She shot up from her chair. “Hi, Mrs. Jacobs.”

  “Stop it. How long have we known each other? You always called me Sophia.”

  “Sorry. I’m still getting used to everything. Chief came in this morning whistling when he usually comes in growling. That’s weird.”

  “Is, uh, my husband in? I brought him lunch.”

  “Yep,” Jennifer said, hooking her thumb. “His door is always open.”

  My husband. My husband. The word felt strange on her lips but she had an easier time saying them than “divorce.” Sophia rounded the corner down the hallway and stopped outside the door with the placard that read, “Riley Jacobs – Chief of Police.” My. So official. The door was cracked slightly, and Sophia pushed it open the rest of the way.

  Riley sat at his desk, sleeves of his white button-down pushed up to his elbows. He glanced up from a pile of papers on his desk and when his eyes fixed on Sophia, they lit up with such obvious happiness that her heart gave a powerful tug.

  “Hey.” He stood and moved toward her. “What’s all this?”

  “I brought you lunch.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You do take a lunch break, don’t you?” She set the picnic basket on the desk.

  “Sometimes, usually from the vending machine.” He helped by moving piles of paper out of the way. “No one ever brings me lunch. Not even Mrs. Anderson, though she did bring me brownies last week.”

  “Aw. Good ol’ Mrs. Anderson. She’s such a good neighbor, right? Not to toot my own horn, but this is better.”

  “Anything you do is going to be better.” Riley came up behind her, put his arms around her waist, and squeezed.

  She turned in his arms, grinned and shoved a cracker in his mouth. “Didn’t we do enough of that yesterday?”

  He chewed quickly and swallowed, winking. “Never.”

  Sophia cleared her throat. “I got some news this morning from Scott.”

  “Yeah. He brought it up, so I told him the truth.”

  “It’s okay. I should have told him. Told everyone. That’s not the issue.” Sophia wouldn’t look at him. This was hard to say.

  Riley tipped her chin to meet his eyes. “What is it?”

  “My father and Eileen are on their way home early because of Diana.”

  “How is she, by the way?”

  “She’s good, but she might need to be on bed rest, so Eileen is coming home to help. But my Dad doesn’t know about us. I’m going to have to tell him.”

  “Do you want me there?”

  Classic Riley, always there for her. “No, it’s okay.”

  “You sure?”

  This was the hard part. It might be easier to say this out loud if she wasn’t pressed up against him like this, where her brain tended to completely disengage.

  “Yes, I just want to know what to tell him.”

  “We’re still married.”

  So simple for Riley, and wasn’t that always the way? Sophia pulled away from him, and he took that moment to shut his office door.

  “What is it, baby?”

  “Of course, we’re still married.” She opened her basket. Paper plates, rye bread, salami. Where was the mustard? Hadn’t she packed the mustard?

  My God, the mustard! Where was the mustard?

  “The question is: are we going to stay that way?”

  Just like that, Riley’s soft brown eyes shut down. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “That’s up to you. You know what I want.”

  “Riley.” She took a deep breath. I can do this. “I know you love me, and I love you, but we learned it takes more than that.”

  “My hot Italian wife thinks you need more than love?” He backed up, one corner of his mouth tipping in a grin.

  “I know. I guess I grew up. We have to want the same things. And I still want children.” She concentrated on chewing her lower lip, afraid to look directly at him.

  Even as recently as her date with Marco, she’d made sure to remember to gaze carefully in a man’s eyes when she asked whether he liked children, worried she’d miss a sign. But with Riley she almost couldn’t look. She was far too invested in his answer. This, she told herself, was why people did the online dating match-up thing. All those lengthy questionnaires to get it right. To make certain you both want the same things before you fall carelessly, hopelessly…

  When are you going to admit it’s a little too late for all that?

  She finally got up her nerve to look at him and saw that his eyes were crinkled slightly at the edges, amused. “Should we get started right now, then?”

  She shoved him, or rather tried to. “This isn’t funny. Don’t make jokes.”

  “Who’s joking?”

  “Stop. I want to know what you want, not just what you think I want to hear. Tell me.”

  He backed her up against his desk, grabbed hold of her wrists and pinned her. “I love you. Let’s put it this way. I want kids but only if they’re your kids. Our babies. Not just for the sake of having children, but for the sake of having our children. A little Sophia running around, singing and dancing, coloring little red paper hearts, and cutting them out. Telling everyone how much she loves them. Lighting a candle when someone scrapes their knee. Am I making any sense here?”

  Yes, please, he was making so much sense tears wet her lashes.

  “What about a little Riley? Playing cops and robbers and ordering everyone around?”

  He tweaked her nose. “Him, too, if you can stand it.”

  “Two of you? I don’t know about that.” She laced her fingers behind his neck. Swallowed the golf ball-sized lump in her throat. “I love you.”

  He kissed her, a light chaste kiss on the lips and then studied her, as if he already realized what was coming next.

  “But maybe I love you too much, you know? And it scares me.”

  “I know.” He bent down and pressed his forehead against hers.

  “Why am I like this?” She moaned.

  “It’s not your fault. You lost your mother, you lost a friend and someone who you believed was a good friend, and then you thought you lost me. We lost each other. For a while.”

  “Other people go through a lot worse. You went through a lot worse.”

  “It was Nikki and David. That hit you hard. Until then you’d never had to face losing me.”

  To her horror, tears pooled in her eyes as she remembered poor sweet David. “It’s easier when I don’t care so much.”

  “But you and I never really had that choice.” His thumbs brushed away her tears and he pulled her even closer.

  She’d had little choice from the moment he’d picked her up for a ride on the back of his motorcycle. Then she’d learned about his life and how much he’d overcome, how hard he’d tried to make a better life for himself and his sister. How brave he’d always been. She’d fallen in love a little bit that day, and a little bit more the next until, before she realized it, she’d fallen off a cliff.

  She held him as tightly as she could, breathing in his scent, her face buried in his warm neck.

  There was a soft rap on the door.

  “Come in,” Riley said, still holding Sophia.

  The door creaked open and Jennifer popped her head in tentatively. “Sorry to interrupt. Would you mind hitting the stupid vending machine for me? Darn thing took my dollar again. You seem to have the Midas touch.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Sophia said, pulling out of Riley’s arms and wiping her eyes. “I brought enough for all three of us.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Later that evening, Giancarlo’s was unusually slammed for a Tuesday night. Tuesday was ease-back-into-business day after dead Monday but not usually hopping like tonight. Then again, there’d been a dress rehearsal for the play down at the community hall, an all-volunteer version of Once Upon a Mattress, and the thespians had decided to have dinner at the restaurant. Angie was thrilled and had prepared a special version of her Pansotti alla Genovese.

  “They perform, I perform! Watch me work, son,” Angie had told Raul. “Watch and learn.”

  “She’s in fine form tonight,” Lizzie said to Sophia as they both left the kitchen. “Might be a good night to tell her.”

  “You’re right. I’ll tell her tonight after we close.”

  She’d decided to close on Mondays. Not only did it make financial sense, but she also wanted Riley to see that she would take this step and make more time for them. Eventually children would follow and she’d have to cut back her hours even more. She’d manage somehow. Nice problem to have. The important thing was that she loved him, she’d never stopped loving him, and scary as that was, she would deal with it. A few more customers walked through the door and Sophia went up to greet them. Sally and Mike, parents of one of her old high school chums. Sophia led them to one of her best tables and rushed back to greet her next guest. A young teenage girl, not her usual customer.

  “Just one?”

  She shrugged and glanced around like it was her first time in here. “Yeah. Just me. Is that cool?”

  “Of course.” Sophia led her to a table for two near the front. “I’m happy to have you. You like Italian food?”

  “Love it,” the girl said and slid into the chair. She was thin and dressed in tight blue jeans and a sweater with sleeves so long they covered her fingers, except for the tips of her fingernails which were painted black. “What’s good here?”

  “Everything. Do you like ravioli? Because it’s the chef’s special tonight. It’s in a wine and garlic sauce.”

  The girl made a face. “Can I have dessert?”

  “You can have anything you want.” She resisted a missive on nutrition with a girl she’d never even met. Hopefully her parents knew she was here by herself having dessert for dinner. None of her business.

  “I’m not going to ask for wine or anything. Don’t worry.”

  “Uh-huh.” Sophia nodded. “Yeah, you’re not old enough for that unless you’re Italian and your parents are here. Are they here?”

  “No. But I’m allowed to be here. Don’t worry.”

  “I’ll send your waitress over.”

  Sophia’s phone buzzed in her pantsuit pocket. Another restaurant re-tweet. Soon she’d tweet the news about Monday nights on Twitter, and be sure that her followers realized it didn’t mean the restaurant was in trouble. She’d have to put a good spin on it somehow. Come up with a good hashtag. Hashtag “family time”? Maybe Diana would have some ideas. She was doing better today, convinced she’d have a boy because he was already so much trouble. She’d have to take it easy for the rest of the trimester.

  “Some people don’t know how lucky they are, do they, Mama?” Sophia kissed her fingers and then raised them to Mama’s picture.

  “Who’s that?” a voice said from behind Sophia.

  Sophia startled and whipped around. It was the teenage girl. My goodness she was stealthy. “Um, hello there.”

  “Yeah, I had to go the bathroom,” she said by way of explanation, Sophia guessed. “So, who’s that lady? She looks like you.”

  “That’s my mother. She used to run this place with my father, Giancarlo. I like to think she’s watching down on all of us all from heaven.”

  “Why didn’t you— never mind. That’s pretty cool, having a restaurant with a guardian angel.”

  “I think so.” Sophia felt a cold stab of fear that didn’t make any sense at all. This girl was harmless, right? “I’m Sophia, by the way. I own this restaurant.”

  “Yeah, I know,” the girl blushed. “I’m a Twitter follower. My name’s Lyric.”

  “What a beautiful name.”

  “Excuse me, hot plate,” Lizzie said, carrying her tray past them.

  “Sorry,” the girl said and scurried back to her table.

  After Lizzie had delivered her orders she came up to Sophia. “Who’s that?”

  “A new customer, I guess,” Sophia said. “She gives me a weird feeling.”

  “Well, c’mon,” Lizzie said. “A kid dining alone here? She sticks out, you think?”

  “We have so many Twitter followers, you never know. She might have wanted to check us out for herself.”

  “Sure, because that’s what every kid does on a Tuesday night.” Lizzie said. “I’ll go get her order.”

  Sophia had too many other things on her mind at the moment to worry why a young girl was out alone on a weeknight at a family restaurant without her family. Maybe she had great taste in Italian food. She’d already said she was a Twitter follower. Mystery solved.

  After lunch with Riley earlier, Sophia had received a call from Daddy-o as they boarded their plane from Atlanta to San Francisco. He was excited to get home and asked her to come over for dinner. She’d agreed, saying she couldn’t wait to see him. So, she’d go tomorrow night and explain everything. Sure, he’d be shocked and maybe a little disappointed that she’d lied to him all this time, but eventually he’d come around. He’d grow to love Riley in time, she was sure of it. And in order to help him along, she would have to admit that everything hadn’t been Riley’s fault, as she’d originally implied.

  An hour later, many guests had already finished their meal and moved on but Lyric still sat in her seat. She seemed to be fascinated with her phone much of the time. The rest of the time she’d picked at the two desserts she’d ordered: Tiramisu and Angie’s strawberry cheesecake tort.

  Maybe the kid needed someone to talk to. Something about her screamed vulnerability and Sophia felt protective. She was about to walk over to say a few encouraging words when she became incredibly distracted by the man who walked through her restaurant doors. Riley. He was immediately greeted by many of the patrons seated nearby.

  “Hi,” he said when Sophia joined him as he chatted with the Millers, party of five, practically Tuesday regulars.

  And then in an uncharacteristic public display of affection, Riley put his arm around Sophia, pulled her in and kissed her. Not a chaste kiss, either. In front of the entire restaurant. Sophia knew better than to think Riley ever did anything without thinking ahead. He’d made his move to let everyone in the restaurant know that she was his. They were together. Again. And as they kissed, she heard no gasps of surprise from the crowd. Instead, when he finally let her up for air there was a round of applause.

  “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” Lizzie said, waving toward Sophia and Riley. “Appearing here, two shows per day.”

 

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