"You didn't hear the doorbell ringing? You have a guest," Mom roared, at the same time enunciating each word. "Now drag yourself up off the sofa and snap out of it, dammit."
She clapped her hands together right next to the one of Sophia's ears not glued to the sofa cushion. Her eyes fluttered in the direction of the door.
A guest?
Against her will, her heartbeat sped up. She tried not to let her excitement show, but already she could feel the heat crawling up her neck to her cheeks. "Who is it?"
"Well, if I knew, I would have said the name," her mom replied with a heated glare beneath a pair of expertly shaped raised eyebrows. "Why don't you go find out?"
Sophia eyed her mom suspiciously, as if this was some elaborate ruse to get her up off the couch. There was no way Everett would show up after the way she left things. He’d called too many times to keep count, and with what little dignity Sophia stashed away, she ignored and deleted each and every one of his messages without listening to them.
Horror-movies-and-ice-cream was one thing, but she wasn't a complete masochist.
Other than his declined calls, Kara called to check on her, but there hadn’t been a peep out of Austin. She guessed he was either pleased with his handiwork—having effectively shoved a giant monkey wrench into her relationship with Everett—or gearing up to defend himself against the impending fraud and embezzlement charges.
A teensy giggle bubbled up inside her.
If she was going down, she would by God take everyone else involved in the farce down with her. She came all the way to Portland to start over, and somehow, in record time, she managed to lose her house, leave her new restaurant plans in limbo, and get her heart broken again. As if the job wasn't done right the first time around, she enlisted the first guy she met to really get in there good and crush it all the way.
Now Mom snapped her fingers a couple of times, signaling for Sophia to hop to it.
"I'm going. Good lord," Sophia said, rolling her eyes as she levered herself up off the couch.
As she stood, sliding her feet into her slippers, she was suddenly aware of the fact she was basically stewing in her own filth. She hadn’t showered in two days. Frantically, she combed her fingers through her hair, smoothing the flyaways as she moved slowly down the hallway to the door. A messy ponytail wasn't so bad, but she was pretty sure her mean case of raccoon eyes nicely accented a pair of chapped lips and stained hot pink fleece pajamas.
Seriously? The timing can’t be worse. If it is Everett at the door, it would just be typical.
Going back to square one with a vengeance.
By the time she reached the cracked-open door, Sophia's heart was basically doing speed cycle on crack. Her breathing swished and swashed and thwacked in her ears until she was at the entry. But her heart plummeted fast and hard into the pit of her stomach, and from the way her shoulders slumped almost instantly, she couldn't deny the weight of the letdown.
It wasn't him.
A breath she was holding leaked slowly out of her chest. "Hi."
"Hey." Zora beamed a genuine, if tentative, smile. Sympathetic as it might have been, it wasn't hard to see Zo recognized how Sophia deflated at the sight of her.
Her heart was set on someone else.
Here Sophia was, standing in the doorway with the sister of the man she was in love with, her would-be sister-in-law, and all she could think about was...what?
Zora had been a genuine friend to her from the get-go. Heaven forbid Sophia be thankful to have someone sane to talk to—someone who wasn't trying to rush her back to Vegas for their own selfish reasons. Like a grade-A ingrate, Sophia met Zora with a giant Fuck Off sign stamped on her forehead.
Unsure what else to do, she offered a conciliatory shrug and a weak smile. Basically an awkward I'm sorry for being a douchebag to you. Zora stepped backward, the way people do when they feel like they're imposing, and Sophia immediately felt like a complete asshole. It would be a swift blow to anyone's ego.
"I'm so sorry. I don't know where my manners are. Would you like to come on in?" Awkwardly, she went in for a forced hug, then grabbing Zora's hand and leading her into the house.
"No. You were expecting—"
"No. Well, yes, but...I promise. Don't worry about it." Sophia waved the idea away before Zora could verbalize all the knots tangled up inside her. She nodded her head in the direction of the living room. "You must think I'm so rude. Please come in. I insist."
"I can't." The words came out on a low breath. Traces of fear and pain stained the words like there was undoubtedly more behind them. It wasn't like an I hate to impose, but ask me again and I'll concede type of response. The firmness in those two simple words felt more like a physical incapability.
What's more, there was an unmistakable tinge of remorse Sophia couldn't overlook.
She glanced over her shoulder into the living room, and paused for the slightest moment, hoping to get a glimpse from another perspective. Her study lingered on the clean lines of the white built-ins balanced by the soft curves of the off-white sofa and Mediterranean blue accents.
There was nothing.
When Sophia returned to Zora, she remained cemented on the steps, unwavering, frozen in place. Her lips were pressed in a thin, polite smile, but there was pain behind her gaze.
It was then it hit Sophia.
What was Sophia really losing in this house? An unsteady home built on lopsided promises and lies? The memories of Ainsley? She would never be without those memories. There was nothing left for her here. She couldn't say the same for the woman standing before her, the quiet fire and peacemaker. Zora was her brother's keeper. She was the woman who befriended Sophia.
No, she couldn't say the same for Zora, or for Everett.
There was still a chance for them to hold onto the good.
"Zora, when’s the last time you were here?" she asked tentatively and pressed her hand to her heart. She studied her friend for the briefest time, and in that moment, the way Zora’s eyes turned up innocently, open, Sophia could almost see an endearing, childlike expression. The same mesmerized, melancholy stare she saw in Everett's eyes.
"He told me how your grandmother raised the two of you in this house. I know what it's like to lose someone you've centered all your hopes around." Sophia leaned against the doorjamb and let her chin graze her collarbone. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're getting her house back."
They stood there on two sides of the same line drawn in the sand. But it wasn't the least bit awkward. Somehow, it was like they both said everything that needed to be said. Still, neither one of them moved to turn and close the door, or walk down the steps and drive away.
Sophia watched a bird perch right down on one of the potted topiaries framing the door. Its grayish-blue feathers contrasted in a ray of sunlight, only more vibrant in the backdrop of the red-bricked pavement. A faint breeze ruffled them slightly, but the tiny little thing continued pecking away, somehow unfazed by its surroundings and the presence of humans.
The corners of Sophia's mouth tugged upward.
This too shall pass.
Zora cleared her throat, interrupting Sophia’s musings. When she looked up and followed Zora’s line of sight into the house, she felt the tension come flooding back. Sophia ran her fingers over the length of her tousled ponytail.
"Does he know?"
Sophia shook her head hesitantly, still focused on her suitcases lined up by the entry table.
"Are you going to tell him you're leaving?" All traces of empathy drained from Zora's tone, replaced by the unmistakable smear of judgment. She was protecting her brother.
On a half-squint, half-wince, Sophia shrugged. "It's better this way. Trust me, we were headed for the exit anyway."
"Better for who?" Zora jerked her head back, a smirk quivered at the left corner of her mouth. "I've seen you two together. You don't have to convince me. I know love when I see it, and you guys have it. I saw the way he looked at you."
Now Sophia did look at Zora, square in the face. She said, "have it," not "had it." She hadn’t used the past tense. She believed it was still there, still strong, despite everything.
When she met the pointed stare aimed at her, she knew there was no sense denying the truth. Tears stung her eyes. Before she could say a word, Zora yanked her into a tight, urgent hug. Her lean, taut arms roped around her and knotted in place.
"What time's your flight?" she asked. Her voice was thick with the tornado of emotions they shared.
On a stuttered breath, Sophia whispered she was leaving early in the afternoon the following day.
"What are you going to tell her?" Mike asked as they arrived back at Everett's house. "I mean, where should I say we were?"
Most of the drive home, Everett was in a daze and, frankly, unwilling to talk. What in the hell was there to say, anyway, when he couldn’t really work out the magnitude of what just happened?
"Don't say anything," Everett muttered as he climbed the stairs and dug the key out of his coat pocket. He pivoted to Mike before turning the key, straight-faced and even-toned. "I got what I went there for. Nothing happened, so just chill. My sister will get over it. Plus, she's the one who called all wired up. This is probably just another one of her little fire drills."
Mike entered first, looking guilty as all hell. Damn, what a mistake it had been to take him along. Everett always knew the guy couldn't hold water, but he always seemed to have the best of intentions. Lately, though, his inability to keep his pie-hole shut appeared to be directly related to his proximity to Zora.
When is he going to finally just admit it so we can skip to the good times?
Everett let the door shut behind him and shot Loose Lips a play it cool look. Hopefully, a few-decades-long friendship would override his friend's played-out efforts to get in good with Zo. He’d barely set the wooden box on the entry table when Zora started yelling for him to come into the living room.
"What took you so long?" By her tone and perma-raised brows, he could tell she was annoyed.
Long? With everything Joe told Everett weighing on his mind and his lead foot, it only took twenty minutes to get back. She was wrong, but it seemed fruitless to argue the point. "Had some things to take care of. What's so damn important? What can't wait this time?"
"We have to talk, like now. We don’t have much time." She patted the couch cushion beside her and shifted, so she was facing him when he sat.
"Okay. And? I'm here. So talk."
Zo scooted closer. Their knees were practically touching as she sat up straight with a sharp intake of air, as if readying herself. How did she know Everett had gone to Joseph's house? As if on some cellular level she could feel his betrayal—his broken promise.
We don't go where we're not wanted. He's dead to us. We're all we need now.
Everett taped off the boundaries for the two of them years ago, and as far as he knew Zora upheld their agreement. Joseph was no more than a sperm donor as far as Everett was concerned.
She lifted her arms now and firmly gripped his shoulders. "Ev..."
"What the fuck is going on? Do I need to be worried here? Because I getting there. Fast."
With the seriousness he hadn't seen on his sister’s face since the day Babs died, Zora pressed her lips together before letting out three words. "She's leaving tomorrow."
He couldn't figure where his mind went, but he searched through what felt like a million faces before he understood Zora meant Sophia.
Mike had steered clear of the room up until this point, up until the direction of the conversation took a turn out into left field, but he just materialized in the doorway out of nowhere.
The second Zo dropped the bomb about Sophia, Everett felt Mike's attention riveted on him.
"Bro, if you want to go, it's cool. We've got this." Heat crawled up to Everett's cheeks. His heart raced, and he swallowed hard, unwilling to meet Mike's gaze. He didn't know why, but he felt guarded all of a sudden. Defensive.
As if to echo his inner turmoil, both Zo and Mike barked the same thing at him at the same time: "You can't keep running."
The hollow thud of Mike's footsteps on the tile growing nearer to them sucked Everett back into Babs’s house. He was nine and Zora was four. It wasn't even six months after they found their mother unconscious on the bathroom floor surrounded by empty pill bottles, when they heard the hard cracks of Joseph's boots searching Babs’s house. Then he paused and loomed over the two of them, curled in the corner beneath the kitchen table, and said the words Everett had been trying to unhear ever since: She was the only one who wanted you.
If his mother loved him, how could she leave? How could they both have left?
As Everett swallowed the memory, he studied his sister protectively, then looked at Mike, blinking away the sting of tears. He asked himself the same question now about Sophia. She didn't even give him a chance to fight, to be there, to explain, or let her explain.
"It's time to do something. Now." Zora's words blasted a hole in his conflicting thoughts, and he gave her a shaky smile.
"What can I do? She doesn't want me." He straightened his back before he could collapse against the cushion. "Plus, I made a promise to Babs, and I'm keeping it."
"Fuck the house, Ev. Babs isn't here, but Sophia is. At least until tomorrow." Zo's hands went flying in the air, and the low rumble beneath her shrieking tone made her frustration almost palpable. She paused briefly, seemingly to let her nerves settle before starting in on him again. "Patton Place is a piece of property. This is the rest of your life we're talking about here."
Everett ran his hands over his hair. "I know. I know."
"I don't think you do. Are you honestly telling me you're going to sit here and do nothing when it's all in your hands this time?" Zora asked. "This isn't about Mom, or Joseph."
Just the mention of his father's name made his skin prickle and pulse with a mixture of anger and anxiety. He’d never held out on his sister until now. Knowing what he was keeping from her only added to his mounting worries. Sooner or later he was going to have to figure out a way to tell her what he learned today. And, judging from what happened with Sophia, it better be sooner.
For now, he let his head fall back and closed his eyes. Beside him, he could hear Mike plop down on the stuffed leather armchair. A second later, he felt both their hands wrapped over his—a mixture of hot and cold blending together, leaving him warmer on the inside. Even though his eyes were still closed, their proximity surrounded him with warmth, and the soft, even rhythm of their breathing soothed him.
They were rooting for him.
Their combined wills were so strong their effect was more like a single, powerful prayer uplifting him.
As much as Everett wanted to take the prayer and use it to rationalize what he needed to do—what his heart wouldn't allow him not to do—nothing could excuse his behavior. His lies. How much he’d behaved like his father.
"You have what you need to get her back, so go to her," Mike whispered. "I didn't trust her at first, but if you love her, I'm sure I will, too."
Taking her cue, Zora leaned in close to add her own two cents. "She expected it to be you when she opened the door, Ev. It's not too late to turn this around. Do you love her or not?"
She was challenging him the way she always had since she was born. Keeping him on his toes, meeting him measure for measure. But something in what she said didn't quite make sense. He heard her clearly, but what was she talking about?
What door?
What’s more, there was Zora’s question. Do I love Sophia?
Deep down, though, it wasn't his love he was worried about. If she asked him a million times, his answer would be a million times yes. Yes, he loved Sophia.
Admitting it wasn't the hard part, either.
There wasn’t a doubt in his mind how much he loved her, or where he could see this crazy, mixed-up match between them going. Everett knew himself. But there was still the elephant sprawled out in the middle of the room. The one thing he couldn't get around. As much as he was aware that he made his own bed, he’d given her no reason to trust him, let alone love him.
It was her love Everett doubted. What if she doesn’t love me back?
"Does it even matter?” he asked. “If she loved me, how could she leave?"
"I could ask you the same question. If you love her the way I know you do...because you wouldn't be sitting here beating yourself up about it otherwise...then how can you even fathom letting her go? You have to fight when it matters." Zora was pleading now, the strain in her voice begging and all but shoving him to move forward, to do something.
To not give up.
It was annoying as hell, but it was exactly what Everett needed. Of all the things that could motivate him to act, goad him into action, what always worked was the terrifying thought that he could be anything like the man who gave up on him and Zo. Joseph chose not to raise them, not to be a part of their lives. Abandonment was the worst thing you could do to a person you claimed to love. Essentially, it was saying, you're not worthy.
And Sophia was worthy of love.
With a renewed sense of urgency and his heart thumping erratically against his rib cage, he sat up, a mixture of adrenaline and defeat leaving him breathless and hopeless all at once.
"So what do I do?" he asked, unfamiliar with being on this side of right and wrong. His posture was bone-straight as he scooted to the edge of the couch.
He was ready for...for whatever would work.
Zora and Mike flanked him, seeming as anxious as he was. She nodded at him, as if agreeing to whatever thought zapped through his wired mind. Mike all but gave him a fist pump and an attaboy. This was the high school locker room all over again, but with two coaches instead of one, hyping him up until he was ready to take on an ironclad defensive line.
But then, Everett's brows knitted together. "Wait...what did you mean, 'she thought it was me at the door?' Whose door? Where was she?"
Only then did Zo's pep rally come to a halt. Her unwavering gaze dropped as she raked her fingers through her hair. "I went to see her at Babs’s house."
"You—"
"I couldn't go in," she blurted out before her brother could get a word in edgewise. This was his consolation. She still couldn't set foot in the house, but she made it there finally. Not to visit Babs’s grave or funeral, but to the house where Babs raised them, and without her big brother holding her hand.
He should have been hurt to learn Zora was holding out on him, but he was doing the same thing. The disappointment weighed down on him. Secrets.
When did they let the distance between them grow so wide?
She swallowed hard, her big brown eyes round and innocent and remorseful.
"It's okay. I'm glad," he said, forcing a closed-lips smile.
"Wait." Zora shook her head and held up her palms, as if to halt all conversation while she rewound the back-and-forth and sorted through her thoughts. "What did Mike mean when he said you have what you need? And you still didn’t tell me where you guys were all day."
If the timing wasn't all wrong, Everett might have entertained his sister's questions, but the clock was ticking, and fast, if Sophia was leaving tomorrow.
So he didn't utter a word. He simply got up from the couch and strode to the entry table, where he retrieved Babs’s wooden box. When he returned to the couch and set it on Zo's lap, her mouth fell open, her eyes welled with tears, her lips began to quiver, and the dam broke.
With his hands over hers, he quieted her sobs.
"How did you—?"
Before she could finish her question, Everett responded. "It's with us now. And I think I know a way to make everything right," he said.
Babs gave him the tools to see things through. Now he had a plan for how to achieve his goal.