Take Me Home for Christmas (Whiskey Creek #5)(21)
Author: Brenda Novak

Sophia squinted, trying to identify this person, but it was too dark to see. She’d been keeping the blinds shut. The sun had set since the last time she’d fallen asleep, anyway. The digital clock on the nightstand told her that. “Who is it?”

“Eve.”

“Ted’s friend?” Sophia definitely didn’t want anyone connected with him to see how badly she was faring.

“Your friend.”

That couldn’t be true. She didn’t have any friends. She’d alienated them when she was a teenager, right before making the biggest mistake of her life by marrying Skip. But she didn’t want word of her diminished state to get back to Ted, so she struggled to put some energy into her voice. “Oh, hey. Sorry I’m not feeling well. Maybe you could come back another time.”

“But then you’d miss the amazing dinner Alexa and I cooked for you. Where’s your robe?”

“What?” She’d expected Eve to apologize and excuse herself. That was what most people would do. It wasn’t as if they knew each other all that well.

“You have a young lady downstairs who’s setting a beautiful table, just waiting to show her mother all the wonderful things she helped make. So I’m going to wrap you up in your robe and walk you down the stairs. And you’re going to have dinner. Maybe once you’ve got some food in your stomach, you’ll have the strength to shower.”

“I can’t,” she said. “I—I’m sick.”

“Then we’ll take you to a doctor.”

She didn’t want a doctor. She was terrified of what a doctor might tell her, terrified she’d wind up like her mother. She just wanted to continue hiding from the world until she could get back on her feet. “I’ll get up later. Maybe another day.”

“You can’t put it off, Sophia.”

She raised her head. “Why not?”

“Because it’ll only get harder.”

There was truth in that. Sophia knew it. How had she even arrived at this dark place? It was humiliating to feel so lost, so helpless. Skip would never have stood for it. She was embarrassed herself. She had so many enemies who would take pleasure in seeing her crushed and broken and, for all she knew, Eve was one of them. “You don’t have to trouble yourself,” she muttered. “I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“That’s what I hope. Are you hungry?”

She should be, but… “I can’t tell.”

“That means you’ve been hungry for too long. Let’s get some food into you.”

The light went on. Sophia covered her face against its painful brightness as Eve collected her robe and slippers, then helped her put them on. “You ready?”

“For what?” Sophia couldn’t believe this was happening. Eve had never shown any interest in her before, not since high school, and they certainly hadn’t been friends back then.

Eve slipped her head under Sophia’s arm so she could support the majority of her weight as they stood. “For a trip to the dinner table.”

Sophia’s chest grew tight as she leaned on a woman who had no particular reason to care about her. She hadn’t cried since she’d taken to her bed. It felt like she’d been numb since the funeral. But she was starting to feel more acutely again—and the burning and prickling sensation of coming alive stung so badly she could hardly bear it.

“Eve?”

They took a few careful steps toward the door. “Yes?”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because life is hard enough without trying to manage the worst of times alone.”

She swallowed the tears that were welling up. “Do you believe I knew what Skip was doing?”

“Did you?” she asked as they entered the hall and approached the long, sweeping staircase.

“No.”

Eve paused, staring into Sophia’s face. “Then stop letting him get the better of you,” she whispered. “What he did was terrible. But you can still make a good life for yourself and Alexa if you fight. Do you understand?”

She nodded. Eve was right, of course. Sophia had to change her thinking, had to get past the despair. “How do I start?” she whispered.

“By taking it one day at a time. Or, if that’s too much, one hour at a time.” Eve squeezed her tighter. “Will you try?”

“I will,” she said and meant it.

“Then you’ll be fine.” Eve helped her down to the dining room, where Alexa was waiting with a hopeful smile on her face.

“Doesn’t the food smell good, Mommy? And doesn’t the table look pretty?”

Sophia shifted her gaze from the antipasto, to the spaghetti and meatballs, to the salad and garlic bread. Alexa had set out their best crystal, china and silverware for this Italian feast. There was even a slice of lemon in her water glass.

This meal signified something, she realized: It signified a new beginning.

“It does look pretty,” she breathed and made herself a promise as she sat down. No matter how bad it got, she wouldn’t give up. Wouldn’t allow her mother-in-law to take custody of Alexa. Wouldn’t allow alcohol to ruin her. She’d prove Skip wrong, damn it. The whole town, too. She’d prove she had more backbone, more strength, than anyone imagined. And she’d do it by getting a job and working herself out of the mess he’d left her in.

But just after she’d eaten and had begun to talk and laugh and feel a sense of well-being for the first time since Skip went missing, there was a knock at the door.

Sophia was in no position to see anyone, so Alexa answered it.

“Who was it?” Sophia asked the moment Alexa returned.

She handed Sophia an envelope. “He said his name was Mr. Groscost.”

“The guy who bought the tractor place from Noah’s dad?” Eve said.

When Alexa shrugged, Sophia exchanged a glance with Eve and opened the letter.

“What does he want?” Eve murmured as Sophia skimmed the contents.

Feeling some of the old panic, Sophia swallowed hard and read the letter more carefully. “A ‘certain number’ of Skip’s investors want to meet with me.”

Eve blanched. “What for?”

“To discuss their ‘options.’”

“What options?”

“Repayment of some kind, I guess.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Don’t tell me they’re coming here,” Eve said.