After Zora’s visit, Sophia decided not to delay leaving Portland. With a call to the airline, she was able to get on the redeye that same night, and the second she landed the weight of everything she’d been through crashed down on her. She was back home in Las Vegas, but nothing about it felt like her home.
She was lost in space, floating, waiting to feel something solid—needing something real.
With Julie’s wedding creeping closer every day, Sophia threw herself into the plans and last-minute details, content to let the spotlight remain firmly on her cousin. She attended the prim and pearls bridal shower, and the wild, raunchy bachelorette party, all while wearing a toothy Vaseline smile...but deep down, the hollow ache in her heart gnawed at her from the inside out.
She was still existing somehow, but she missed Everett like mad.
Weeks had gone by since she spoke to him or Zora, and he’d stopped calling and texting. He was moving on. Her only Portland tie left was Kara. Just last week Sophia called and gave her an update on the house and the move. She told Kara she wished they’d hung out more and promised to hire her the second she figured out how she was going to get her restaurant up and running. But then she hurried off the phone because the restaurant made her think of Everett, the way everything did.
Don’t think about him.
“Snap out of it,” Mom yipped in Sophia’s ear, unscrewing her from her downward-spiral thinking. “The lady is talking to us.”
“Oh. Sorry.” She could feel her face burning. “What did you say?”
“No problem. I was just saying, please have a seat. And would you care for any tea or macaroons?” The woman at the bridal salon where Julie was having her final dress fitting looked like she was doing her best to plaster on a carefree smile, but her coastal blue eyes were impossibly wide and her woodsy brown locks were frazzled around the edges—like she, too, was having a day.
Along with Mom and Aunt Marian, Sophia followed her instructions and shuffled into the sitting area sans the tea and crumpets. The place was small, a tight space with a petite, dusty pink velvet settee where Sophia was sandwiched between her mother and aunt, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
"I'll let you guys sit," Sophia said as she worked to get to her feet, but in classic Mom form, she was not having it. She jerked her daughter back down. Apparently the sandwich was by design.
She squished back into the teensy hybrid sofa/loveseat, chair, deflating with a loud sigh. "What?" Her legs, crossed at the ankle, ticked impatiently. She could just throw her hands up at this point. This was supposed to be about Julie, but somehow she knew Mom and Aunt Marian would find a way to make it about her.
"Now wait a minute, honey. While we've got a few minutes, I want to show you something." Seriously, her mom could be like gravy. A filling, spicy mix of warm and smothering.
Mostly out of necessity as opposed to choice, Sophia crossed her arms too, and shifted in the seat. She clenched her teeth and pasted on a tight smile. "Yes, Mother. What would you like to show me?"
Finally, with the spotlight, Mom whipped out a single, razor-sharp business card. As nonthreatening as it should have been, Sophia could feel in her bones that the glittery rectangular card was yet another one of Mom's boxes—ones to be checked off methodically. Find Sophia a house within a one-mile radius. Box. A budget-breaking retail pad able to meet Mom's high standards for a restaurant. Box. A new, handsome, wealthy man worthy of being her son-in-law, located no farther than Summerlin (because anywhere in the northwest or the southwest was acceptable, but the northeast and southeast were both beneath her and beyond her city limits).
Box.
Box.
Box.
Box.
"Is this really what we should be discussing while Jules is in there slipping into the dress she's going to be married in?” Fumes threatened to leak out of her ears. “Today is not about me. It doesn't always have to be about me on other days, either."
Given her usual expedited timeline and the peppy-looking realtor's card, Mom was already hard at work. It wouldn't be long until the plots for marriage and grandbabies were back in full force.
"Aw, honey. I'm just trying to help you."
Lord have mercy, woman, listen to reason.
"Any minute now Jules will emerge from that dressing room to show us this gorgeous gown. She's going to tell us she's never felt more beautiful, and we're not even going to notice because you insist on talking about how your friend has property listings for me. I have a house, and I found a place to open up my restaurant, but it's a little far from here, wouldn't you say?"
"And him? Do you still have him?" Ouch!
With a sharp intake of air, Sophia opened her mouth to unleash her fury. "Are you kiddi—?"
Aunt Marian pressed her hand down on Sophia's knee, silencing her. "It's just because you look so down, sweetheart. Like you're lost," she said, in her velvety voice. The woman hardly ever said anything, but when she did, you knew you better listen, and listen good. It was going to be something sage, something Maya Angelou-like, filled with depth and wisdom and inspiration.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she met her aunt's warm look.
"Now I know he's a nice young man. A good one, too, if you gave him your heart after everything you've been through. It's unfair, I know. We just want to remind you you're not alone. We can help you put down new roots here with us."
She laced her fingers with Aunt Marian's and squeezed, leaning against her.
"Do you remember when you were about seven and you played with this little tin baking set? Might have been six or seven. Anyway, it might not have seemed like it then, but you were running a bakery right from your mother's kitchen."
"Oh, shit, Marian. What's any of this got to do with the listings?" Mom chimed in. "Yolanda found one only three blocks away from us. She should be thinking about getting her life back in order. You know they have an app you can use for that kind of thing now." She waved her phone over Sophia's shoulder, apparently on the off chance that Sophia wasn't aware of what an app was or how to use one. "It's short for application. Like little websites on your phone, computer, or tablet."
"Thanks. I know what an app is, Mom."
Satisfied with her daughter’s digital knowledge, Mom stuffed her phone back in her purse and picked up a bridal magazine. Just past her, a girl holding a long veil and a bedazzled sash in her hand slipped into Julie's room down the hall.
Sophia imagined stepping into a sheer lace and tulle ball gown with a sweetheart bodice and a modest engagement ring on her finger. Nothing elaborate or too fancy, just family and a few friends coming together to celebrate two needles who found each other in a haystack. Even if Everett hadn’t loved her enough to tell her the truth, Sophia still loved him. She didn't know if she ever could get past it, but her heart still hoped they could share their love for the only home able to tie the good from both their pasts and futures together.
And somewhere deep down she knew it was all Mom wanted for her, too.
Sophia looked away from Julie's dressing room back to her mother with her golden heart and iron will. Softly, she brushed a kiss across her cheek.
"I want you to be happy. Whatever it means for you," Mom said.
"Thank you for everything, Mom." She kissed her one more time before turning back to Aunt Marian.
"Anyway, it wasn't a restaurant you wanted back then, but you were selling cookies for fifty cents, and milk or lemonade for another fifty. You were a pint-sized businesswoman. But it was never about the money then. Your father’s the one who put all the importance on material things. Do you remember what you told me?”
Sophia shook her head.
"I about fell out of my chair laughing when I told your mother what you said, but somehow I didn't doubt you. It wasn't the way you were built. You told me you wanted to be the owner, because then you could be in charge of your own life. I want you to remember your dreams. You're still in charge of your own life, so if you want something...and now your mom is going to be mad at me for saying this...go for it. But it may or may not be here in Las Vegas."
"Goddammit, Marian. Now, don't you start. Why can't you look at the pretty dresses and mind your own business?" Mom pursed her lips. She was fuming mad.
Aunt Marian and Sophia doubled over with laughter, but her aunt, sweet as she was, continued advising her niece despite Mom’s agitation.
"It may or may not be a house around the corner from your family, or a family restaurant. It might be following your heart or starting a family of your own. You have to decide, sweetheart. It's your decision to make. Not mine. I'm sure she'll disagree with me, but it's not your mother's either."
On such an amazing note, Sophia reeled her aunt in for a breathless, giggling bear hug. The embrace itself was like clarity. She wasn't sure how she didn't notice it before, but she must have been waiting for this. For permission. For her mother's blessing, although she'd take her aunt's in lieu of her mom’s.
She wasn't walking out on her family.
Sophia would have done anything to avoid being like her father—and she wasn’t about to walk out on her family. She didn't want to be the one to leave. Even the move to Portland was tethered by time. It was never about leaving forever. Six months was stuck in the back of her mind. Boxes still lined the wall in the garage because it only ever felt temporary.
Is this why I didn't fight harder for him?
Once the laughter died down, Aunt Marian sat up straighter and squared her shoulders, dipping her chin to look Sophia in the eyes. "Now. Do you love him?"
"Yes, she does." Julie glided down the hall toward them looking like some kind of ethereal goddess in an ivory cloud of ruffled organza and tulle with a diamond-encrusted sash cinched at the waist and a flowing, lace-lined veil. With the pure white and glitter of her dress against her golden bronze skin, she was a glowing watercolor dream of bliss.
"Oh, my god." The three women on the settee oohed and ahhed in unison.
Mom tossed the magazine on the end table. "Stop looking, right now."
Sophia and Marian spun toward her, both gaping, both ready to pounce on Helen if one negative thing came out of her mouth.
"This is the one," her mom continued. "It's gorgeous. Divine." Her hands were held up, framing the vision before her. "Nothing else will compare.”
Typical Julie, she wasn't trying to hear anything Mom said. Apparently, the walls in the dressing room were about as thin as her tulle veil because she began to weigh in on the whole get Sophia's life back on track discussion.
"This is the fitting, so I sure as hell hope this is the one. And as far as this Sophia situation goes, she loves Everett. I knew she was putty the second I met him when I went up there to Portland. Then, when I saw this fool balled up on the couch watching Michael Myers and eating Rocky Road...confirmed."
The mothers hummed in agreement.
"It was Strawberry Cheesecake." Sophia corrected her, laughing. "If you’re going to throw me under the bus, at least get it right."
"Potato, potahto."
"Oranges and apples."
Mom snapped her fingers to break up the bickering. The whole salon stood at attention. "Then why are you running?"
Floating on the carpeted riser in front of the full-length mirror, Julie rolled her neck at her reflection. "Don't be trying to send her back already. She may not need to go back yet."
"Why?" Sophia asked, confused. "Why ‘yet?’ If it works, I can bring him to your wedding." Just the idea of him standing beside her while they witnessed Julie and Nico take vows of love and loyalty made her heart swell.
"Just...because." Julie’s eyes were glued to the floor as she leaned back and teetered on her sparkly heels, looking guilty as all heck. But Sophia still wasn’t sure yet what she was hiding.
Sophia cocked her head to the side and glared to capitalize on Julie’s discomfort. "Hmm. ‘Because,’ huh? Well, in this case, with such a strong argument…” A wide smile tweaked the corners of her mouth as she shook her head. “You do know you're a horrible liar, right? The dress is incredible on you, but you're still a liar."
The woman was definitely up to no good. Sophia didn't know how, or what, or why, but Sophia was on to her.
"Mm-hmm." Julie hummed, closemouthed.
Somehow Sophia was going to find out what Julie had up her sleeve.
"Let him wallow for a minute to figure out what he lost. Dang. Let him sweat for two weeks. If you need something to do, look at me and how hot I am in this Monique Lhuillier."
Seriously, the woman could give a master class on deflection.
The Sunday of the wedding was pure chaos.
A rainbow of families and friends on both sides of the couple filled the pews of the picturesque church, now turned into an ivory and blush menagerie.
The colors and theme were elegant and romantic, and at the same time classically traditional. Think lots of silk, low, shimmery lights, and flowers galore. Not a single surface, from the altar to the paved road in under the Alfa Romeo parked out front avoided being peppered with frilly, flowery garb and congratulatory best wishes. Everything was primed and set to launch Julie and Nico into la dolce vita.
Talk about living the sweet life.
Sophia leaned on the door to Julie’s dressing room, her heart and mind full, in the best way, with all the festivities and people. On one end of the craziness there were his loud, boisterous, hugging, Italian family members, who were downright aggressive about trying to feed Julie’s skin and bones. And then there was Julie's blended spectrum of black and white family with nonstop "advice." Mostly about never going to bed mad and learning the give and take both of dirty sex and clean fights.
With his steely bicep wrapped around Nico's neck, Uncle Antoine could never be accused of being subtle. This is my little cousin you're about to marry. As long as she's safe and happy, so are you.
It was no wonder Julie locked herself in the bride’s room.
"Open up," Sophia whisper-yelled through the wooden door.
After a few seconds she heard her cousin's muffled voice disguised as a deep baritone. "Who is it?"
Julie has been hiding for going on half an hour now. Well, not hiding, because everyone knew where she was, but she wasn't letting anyone in. Sophia was denied once, but this time she came armed with incentives.
"I have chocolate and alll-co-hol," she singsonged, knowing they were the two things her cousin was hard-pressed to say no to.
Just like I thought. Click.
The door cracked slightly, then she was yanked inside by a Wedding Barbie version of Julie, complete with sparkly tiara, lace-edged veil, and a sweeping ball gown even Cinderella couldn't resist. She replaced the latch behind Sophia with a swipe of her hand. Using her French-manicured fingernails, Julie pried the chocolate out of Sophia's hands and stuffed it into her mouth. And, with closed eyes and a satisfied moan, she finally relaxed.
Here was this stunning, golden-bronze bride, draped in the most beautiful dress, going through chocolate withdrawals she was so stressed out.
"Who else do I need to add to my hit list? Was it his Nona again?"
Seemingly in recovery mode after scarfing down the entire chocolate bar, Julie lightly fingered her hair out of her face. She took a deep, calming breath...and then unraveled again.
"I'm going to kill them. If one more person tells me about these damned Italian traditions, I'm going to scream."
The woman was practically sniveling and snarling.
"Ooh, you said damn in a church. I'm tell-ing!" Sophia was teasing, but she still felt their Sunday school superstitions clawing at her. She pressed her palms together and lifted her eyes heavenward. "I'm sorry, God, for me and this blasphemous child. But please give her a break. She is getting married today."
But her attempt to get Julie to laugh, to break the ice, didn’t appear to have worked.
"Saturday would have been way more fun, but they said Sundays were luckier for prosperity and fertility. Like, we haven't even exchanged vows yet and they're already hinting at babies." Her eyes were wide, and a pink flush crawled up from her neck to her cheeks. All the while, she rolled her eyes and neck, lips pursed in annoyance.
"Do you know the woman actually told me it was bad luck to look in a mirror unless I removed a glove or a shoe? They're talking about cutting the tie I bought him, too. Who's going to pay money for half a damn tie? Ooh, ooh," she fumed, and swish-stomped around the room for good measure.
Patting the counter to make sure it was clean first, Sophia propped herself up against the beveled edge, careful not to wrinkle the requisite fitted satin bridesmaid gown. With a nod, she signaled for Julie to continue with her rant.
"Don't even get me started on throwing rice. How many birds do we have to kill in the name of luck?" Julie twisted the top off of the mini bribery tequila and took a long swig. "And do you see this?" She held up a frayed end of her delicate veil with a noticeable tear. "I have a fucking rip in my veil. Some fucking luck, all right."
A knock sounded at the door. "Sophia, someone is looking for you, but it's time. We seated him on the bride's side," said a skittish older female voice. The voice was familiar. It sounded like one of Aunt Marian's church friends, but before she could ask for more details, they heard the click-clack of heels scurrying away.
A giggle bubbled up inside Sophia. Julie really instilled the fear of God in these women.
That's my girl.
She chewed her lip and stared off into space.
Who could be looking for me?
"Probably just Nico's cousin, Gianni," Julie blurted before Sophia could put too much thought into it. "Apparently he's got it bad for you. I don't think he's ever been turned down before."
"Good lord, this guy." He’d been a freaking stage-five clinger ever since Nico introduced them the week before. He was all hands and slimy kisses on the cheek, and no concept whatsoever about personal space. And of course, leave it to her mother to sneak him her phone number. The woman was such an off-kilter Sour Patch Kid—most times sour, sometimes sweet.
"Mom is going to pay for that one." She playfully rolled her eyes, but then she caught sight of panic streaking through her cousin’s wide eyes.
Julie jolted up, ramrod straight, like she was arming herself for battle. Teeth clenched. Her shaky feet causing the skirt of her dress to billow and vibrate.
"Just breathe, Jules. I'm here. I'll kick their asses if you want me to…or, maybe I'll get Gianni to do my dirty work." Sophia winked and wrapped an arm around her cousin’s shoulders. When they were eye to eye, she let her smile dissolve for a split second. "All kidding aside, though, I want you to know you're beautiful and strong, and I’m so happy for you. You deserve all this, and so much more. I know your dad is looking down on you, smiling and celebrating with you because this is just the beginning of the blessings in store. And if you ask me, Jules, Nico is the lucky one, because he gets to have you."
Julie’s eyes welled and reddened. She seemed to sniff and swallow back emotion as she flashed a quivering smile. Sophia squeezed her hand while she struggled to get the words out.
“Thank you. I love you,” she mouthed.
“Don’t mess up your makeup.”
Sophia dragged her into a tight embrace.
Today Sophia believed in happy endings, even if hers was still up in the air.
Almost twenty minutes later the hypnotically soothing sound of Ave Maria swept through the church.
Sophia stood beside Julie's best friend and maid of honor, Liz, on one side, and two more of her friends and Nico's sister on the other. They were all staggered on the steps and holding lush, bejeweled pink peony bouquets.
Facing them on the other side of the altar were Nico and five pretty decent-looking groomsmen, four of whom were his brothers. And then there was the last one, Casanova, none other than Nico’s hyper-sexy, NC-17, greasy, lip-licking cousin Gianni.
Just as Julie began her march and locked gazes with Nico, Sophia remembered what the woman outside the dressing room said. The bride's side. She glanced over at Gianni, staring at him for probably too long.
Wait. He wasn’t on the bride’s side. And while he was looking at her, there was no sign that he was the one looking for her.
If it isn’t Gianni, then who is it?
While she should have plastered on her best over-the-top bridal attendant grin to watch her cousin take on the white mile, Sophia couldn't deny the sudden frantic beat of her heart. Her eyes darted to the pews on the left side of the church—her right, facing the door—where her family and Julie's guests were seated.
With a tentative smile she panned past Mom and Aunt Marian, who were sitting with Stan and Otis. They really were adorably cute couples. Not far back, she saw Liz's boyfriend Derrick with a few tatted, muscular gym-type guys, all of whom looked incredibly uncomfortable in bicep-choking suits. Beyond them, she didn't recognize many more faces aside from Aunt Marian’s church friend, Mrs. Hill, who was hard to miss in a rather large purple sunhat blocking the back corner near the door.
Still, she couldn't discount the niggling feeling that whoever it was might still be here. She’d been feeling antsy all day, like she was the one jumping the broom. Or rather, breaking the glass.
The pastor began to read from his Bible, and Julie and Nico looked completely calm, as if their fate were decided by the stars and the moon above—for all the goo-goo eyes they were giving each other.
From where she was standing, she couldn't see her cousin's face. But Nico's expression? Her heart overflowed to see what love could look like on a man in love’s face. His glowing eyes spoke volumes. There was this sort of urgency about his expression. Like he wanted the pastor to hurry up and marry them before Julie could get away. Like he gave someone a ten and got back change for a hundred.
In that one moment Sophia could understand the Italian traditions around luck. Julie was his fortunate surprise. Somehow just being able to witness it made her feel lucky, too.
Until she took one more look around the bride's side of the church.
Mrs. Hill leaned forward, and now Sophia knew what all Julie’s deflection was about.
She did have something up her sleeve—or rather, someone. A couple of rows from the back, off in the corner, there, in her city, under the same roof, was her Everett.
He’s here.