The Second Time is Sweeter, page 4
“I’m sorry, Angie,” Angie’s sous-chez, Raul, waltzed into the kitchen. “I didn’t even know you were married.”
“Not me, you fool!” Angie turned back to Sophia. “Full immersion, baby. It’s the only thing that works. Now Stacy can fly on her business trips without taking Xanax.”
Sophia tried a smile and went out the kitchen door. Full immersion. Sounded interesting, but she didn’t want to think about the D tonight. Tonight was about food, family, and love. Everything seemed to be under control on the floor. Wine glasses filled, every couple stared deeply into each other’s eyes or held hands across the table. Scott and Diana were doing both, of course. Overachievers.
“Are you serious?” Scott said at the top of his voice. “Babe!”
Sophia’s head whipped around. Scott was lifting Diana out of her seat, and all around them curious customers wanted to know the obviously good news, judging by the ear-to-ear grin on Scott’s face. But Sophia froze, because she understood, even if no one else did.
“We’re pregnant again,” Diana said with a smile, explaining to the curious folks surrounding them.
There were no secrets in Starlight Hill, especially when you were as loud as Scott. Sophia went over and congratulate them. “Guys! I’m so happy for you.” She hugged Diana first, then Scott, and for the first time noticed the lack of wine at their table. “I didn’t see that one coming.”
“Well, we had to try for a boy,” Diana explained.
“Of course.”
Mama had three girls and that was good enough for her and Daddy-o, but some people were greedy. Oh God, listen to her. She was a horrible person. A terrible sister and sister-in-law. Tonight, she’d say ten Hail Marys before bed and beg for forgiveness lest she be punished with a barren womb once she finally…finally…moved on.
“Should I break out some champagne? I mean, you can’t drink, but what about Scott?”
Diana waved a hand and drew Sophia aside. “We’re good. You’re still babysitting tomorrow?”
“Sure, sure. Where are you guys going?”
“Just up to the Hennessey House for the day. We’re going to relax and take naps, and—take naps.” Diana stared dreamily at Scott, who was accepting a cigar from a male customer.
“You guys have a great time, and don’t worry about the girls. At all.”
Diana grabbed Sophia in a bear hug. “Thank you. What would I do without you? I’d have gone crazy by now. Mandy is no good at babysitting. All she does is give them candy to shut them up.”
Please. Diana’s sister Mandy was not in the same babysitting ballpark as Sophia, a badge she wore quite proudly. She followed parents’ instructions and didn’t hand out unapproved snacks or sit the kids in front of the television for hours. Well, almost never. It meant that by the end of the day she was usually exhausted, but it wasn’t like she had her own children to keep her busy twenty-four seven.
Sophia needed to get over herself. Two years ago, when Courtney had been born, Sophia told herself that she’d have the next baby in the family. That in another year she’d meet someone, get married (forgetting the minor fact that first she’d have to take care of the D-word; this was, after all, a fantasy) and have a child. It seemed logical that she’d be the next one in line to get hit with the baby stick. Brooke and Billy had three kids, Wallace and Genevieve four, and Scott and Diana two. All the Turlock wives were all taken care of in the child department and it would be her turn next. But time got away from her. She’d never started seeing anyone, so how could she get pregnant? She wasn’t exactly the Virgin Mary. And yes, she’d considered a sperm bank, but that was so unromantic. She didn’t want to have a child with a stranger’s sperm. She was Italian, for the love of pasta! What would Daddy-o say? “Where’s the sperm that got you pregnant?” And Mama would roll over in her grave. Twice.
Late that night, after accepting lots of sympathetic hugs from Angie and Lizzie after they’d also heard the news, Sophia went home to her lonely house. Sooner or later, now that Riley was back in town, she’d have to deal with the di—ugh, whatever. She’d have to deal with it. But this would force her to move on. It wouldn’t be her fault, because Riley would want this and she’d have to give it to him. Just a signature on a piece of paper and they’d both be free.
No sooner had she put her key in the front door than a loud motorcycle rolled up the driveway of the rental next door. Definitely a Harley, since only they made that kind of racket. The floodlight gave off enough brightness for her to see the dark bike, a man wearing equally dark jeans and biker boots. Her luck might be finally turning because the new neighbor looked fine from here. Mighty fine.
They had something in common already. A shared love of motorcycles. He dismounted the bike and his boots thudded up the driveway. She should probably walk over and say hi to him. Tomorrow she and the girls would bake him some cookies as a housewarming welcome. This could be a sign and proof it was time to move on and date. Her one true love had moved in next door. Eventually they’d fall in love and have plenty of babies. But first, they would have to meet.
“Welcome to the neighborhood!” Sophia said from the edge of their shared lawn.
The man ripped off his helmet and revealed his dark, unruly hair. “Hey, thanks.”
Sophia’s stomach dropped to her toes. Riley.
“You. You’re my new neighbor?”
He gave her a big, wide grin. “Yep.”
Riley Jacobs, man of few words. Nope. Yep.
Sophia went palms up. “Care to elaborate?”
Holding his helmet, he cocked his head and gave her a patient smile. She hated the look on his face, the one dialed to: I should get a medal for having the patience to deal with you.
“Renting this house.”
“You didn’t tell me you’re renting the house next door to me!”
He made a show of looking past her to glance at the little blue-and-red-trimmed home behind her. “That’s where you live now?”
“You’re trying to tell me you didn’t know I lived next door?”
He walked past her toward his front door, his scent trailing in his wake. His had always been such a wonderful smell—manly, woodsy, leather. “Can’t keep track of where everyone lives.”
Ouch. Yeah, she got it. She wasn’t important enough for him to keep up with, to ask around about. That would have meant he cared.
“Let me give you the four-one-one. I live there.” She pointed to her home. “So, you might want to re-think your plans if you didn’t plan on living next door to your ex-wife.”
“Don’t you mean my wife?”
She blinked. “That’s a technicality.”
He nodded. “Yeah, just thought about it, and I’m good. How do you like living next door to your husband?”
“Are you serious? You couldn’t live anywhere else in town?”
“I could, but I like this place.” His key was in the doorknob when he stopped and slid Sophia an irritated look. “And what happened to my welcoming committee?”
“Welcome to the neighborhood!” She stomped back into her home.
Hershee waited at the door for her with three yips in a row and a full circle twirl. “Oh, Hershee.”
Why did Riley always have to make her feel so tiny and insignificant? Hadn’t he kept up with her at all these past few years? At the very least so he’d know where to send the papers? The answer was that he probably hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Maybe that was what moving this close to her was about. This way he’d be able to walk over the papers and save the expense of a stamp. Yep, that sounded like him.
She was going to be a D woman!
CHAPTER 3
The next morning, Scott dropped the girls off early so he and Diana could presumably have an entire day of…napping. He squatted down to say goodbye, and both little girls folded into his arms. It made an adorable picture, big buffed man bent down to eye level with his daughters. Sometimes Sophia still couldn’t believe this was Scott, her wild, act-first-think-later stepbrother. But marriage and fatherhood had mellowed the stuffing out of him. He was now the lieutenant who ran Firehouse 54. Sophia didn’t have to ask where Diana was. She’d be either outside in the car hiding or back at home waiting. Neither one of the girls did too well with separation when Diana dropped them off anywhere, be it preschool or any of their many relatives. But they seemed to do fine with their dad.
“When will you be back, Daddy?” Chloe asked, hugging his neck.
Hershee was jumping and spinning in circles, hoping someone would notice.
Two-year-old Courtney was busy trying to stick her fingers into Scott’s mouth, which made it difficult for him to talk. “When the…wow, that’s a yummy finger, baby girl…after about sixteen episodes of Dora the Explorer.”
“That’s a lot,” Chloe said suspiciously.
Sophia prayed they weren’t literally going to have to watch sixteen episodes of Dora. Diana used the show as a way to gauge time, such as Chloe had to go to preschool for as long as six episodes of Dora, or about three hours. But they needed to find a longer show, because Sophia could see how sixteen would sound like a huge number to a child, and suddenly this method of telling time didn’t seem as effective.
“We’re going to have fun!” Sophia said, clapping her hands. Hershee yipped in agreement. “Later we’ll bake cookies.”
“Cookies!” Courtney giggled and ran into Sophia’s arms.
Thank goodness, the baby was easier these days. Good natured, if always a little bit sticky. Sophia picked Courtney up and kissed her soft sweet cheek. She might be a happy child, but she was also the one Sophia had to watch the closest. At two, she’d just begun to test her boundaries. Luckily, Sophia had the entire house baby-proofed when she’d first moved in, anticipating this problem. Scott gave each girl one last kiss, swung them through the air until Sophia thought they would throw up all over him, and finally said goodbye, though not before leaving the number of the B&B and poison control.
As if she didn’t already have poison control on speed dial. Please. Nothing bad ever happened on her watch. Nothing. These little nieces were practically her life, and she’d die trying to protect them.
“Okay, girls! Did you eat breakfast yet?”
“I want ceweal,” Chloe said.
Uh-oh. Reversion. Sophia had read all about it in one of the child-rearing books she read late at night for fun. Four-year-old Chloe had been saying her Rs just fine for months.
“I was going to make you pancakes.”
Courtney squealed and twirled like a ballerina. “Yesssss!”
A few hours later, Sophia had fed the girls and read them five or one hundred picture books, taken them to the park with Hershee and pushed them in the swing, come back home and fed them a lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and apple slices. Together they’d made a batch of Genevieve’s famous chocolate cookie recipe. Sophia wasn’t much of a baker—all those precise measurements made her eye twitch—but this recipe was simple enough not to ruin by fudging the ingredients a little here and there. Sophia thought they’d all had great fun and best of all she was able to tell Chloe when she asked again that her parents would now be back in only about eight Dora episodes.
“I want ceweal,” Chloe said, and stuck her thumb in her mouth.
Gah! She hadn’t sucked her thumb since she was two. “Why cereal? We just ate cookies. Weren’t they yummy?”
She removed her thumb. “Ceweal. Lucky Chawms.”
Sophia had once made the mistake of giving Chloe a bowl of the stuff, which she kept on hand for herself, to be honest. She didn’t eat it often and a box lasted a couple of months, but there was something about those rainbow-colored little marshmallows and charms that reminded Sophia of her own childhood…and of Mama. But one small bowl of the cereal and Chloe had bounced off the walls like a rubber ball for hours and Diana had asked—no, begged—Sophia never to give Chloe the stuff again. It was clear now that the cereal was like crack to this four-year-old.
Should she call Genevieve or Brooke for advice? Nope, then they’d only think her incapable of handling their own children in a pinch. Sophia could handle this little bump, which was no worse than when Billy’s son Sammy had thrown a fastball straight through her next-door neighbor’s front window. That kid was going to be just like his father.
“I think I ran out of it,” Sophia lied and went for distraction. “Let’s watch Dora!”
Courtney squealed and sat down in front of the television where she proceeded to slowly remove each one of her soft-soled Dora shoes, then peel off her socks. She wiggled her toes as if she’d just remembered she had them, carried her socks and shoes back to Sophia and dumped them in her lap.
“Put on.”
Sophia put them back on at which point the entire process would start all over again. They did this about ten times and then halfway through the second episode of Dora, Courtney curled up in Sophia’s lap and fell asleep.
“Oh, sweet angel,” Sophia whispered as she laid Courtney on the couch, then snuggled a blanket around her and kissed her temple. She smelled like Johnson’s baby shampoo.
“I’m too big for naps,” Chloe said, then stuck her finger in her nose and went back to watching TV.
“That’s right,” Sophia said, wincing. She’d wash those hands later. “You’re a big girl. The big sister.”
Sophia walked over to her front window where she spied a moving van in the driveway next door. Riley was outside directing and ordering everyone around. Something he’d always been good at. Orders. This meant he was really moving in. Next door. Her husband, living next door. Ex-husband-to-be, that was. She wondered when she did file for her paperwork if she could demand that her ex move anywhere else in town. Somewhere she wouldn’t have to run into him every day. Didn’t he know anything about boundaries?
When Sophia turned away from the window, she saw that Chloe had climbed up next to her sister and was cuddling with her. Adorable. “Don’t wake her up, honey.”
Chloe shook her head and stared at the TV. Everything was so peaceful now, Chloe finally settled down and calm enough. Courtney napping. Sophia thought about a warm shower. She hadn’t had time for one that morning, and if anything the day was getting colder as a winter cloud cover rolled in. The house was baby-proof. For only a few minutes, the girls would be safe in here. She’d taken a shower while babysitting before, just not with Scott’s girls yet. They were the youngest in the family, but now that they were toddlers it seemed like a distinct possibility that Sophia might get away with a quick shower while one was sleeping and the other one looked about to join her, whether or not she claimed she was too old for naps. And yes, in fact, a few minutes after Sophia had cleaned her kitchen and wiped up all the flour from the counters, Chloe too was asleep next to her sister.
They looked like two little cherub angels. Sophia whipped out her phone, took a photo and texted it to Angie and Lizzie.
Adorable. Angie texted back.
Babysitting AGAIN? Let me fix you up! Lizzie texted back.
Sophia ignored that. She made sure every door in the house was locked, including her back door. She went around double checking that all the outlets were covered, and all the dangerous toxic chemical cabinet doors locked. She double-checked that the stove and the oven were indeed off, checked one more time to make sure the girls were breathing, and nothing could possibly in a million years block their airways, and then started the shower.
She took a good long look at herself in the mirror. Today, she looked like a Cracker Jack prize. Was that flour in her hair and up her nose? Yeah, she needed this shower. Deserved it. Had earned it. She was also past due for a haircut, given the fact that her brown layers had all grown out months ago and her highlights were fading fast. Maybe if she took some time and effort to look like a woman, she’d get asked out every now and then. Or she could let Lizzie fix her up. Just because she went out on a date didn’t mean she was going to hook up with the guy. She wouldn’t hook up with anyone until she got her paperwork done, because otherwise Mama would be disappointed up in heaven and Sophia couldn’t have that. The Abella women didn’t cheat on their husbands, technicality or not.
A few minutes later, she shut off the water, grabbed a towel and covered her wet hair turban-style. Wrapped another towel around her body. She stepped outside the bathroom door and noticed Chloe awake and standing just outside the kitchen.
“Coco went outside,” came Chloe’s little voice. Her nickname for Courtney.
“What?!”
Oh God, oh no. The baby, outside. She’d locked the doors, had she forgotten the childproof latch? This had never happened before in all her babysitting history. It had to be one of Scott’s children, of course! What if she ran out into the street? It wasn’t a busy street but still. Cars backed out of their driveways and Courtney was so short!
Sophia slid toward the front door, feet still slightly wet and water dripping off her. Hershee yipped and jumped, following, and Sophia flew out the front door, gasping for breath.
“Courtney!” No sign of her anywhere, not on the sidewalk or lawn. How long had she been gone?
The front door closed behind Sophia. Then locked. A feeling of dread spread down to her toenails, and Sophia turned back to face the front of her home. In the picture window facing the house she saw a clear view of Courtney through the sheer drapes, still asleep on the couch surrounded by pillows. Sophia knocked frantically on her front door, never more keenly aware of her nakedness.
“Chloe Elizabeth Turlock, open this door right now! This isn’t funny!”
“Ceweal!” Chloe said from the other side of the door.
Truly like a drug, the cereal had turned her niece into a fledging criminal. Sophia kept knocking on the door, a little more discreetly this time because she’d just noticed one of Riley’s movers gawking at her.
“Please, honey?” She pulled the towel tighter around her. Naked. Naked and outside next door to her husband’s house.
“Do you have a spare key anywhere?” Riley was behind her on the front stoop, not smiling.
