Take Me Home for Christmas (Whiskey Creek #5)(27)
Author: Brenda Novak

“So you know how to use one, right?” he clarified.

“I’m probably not your best bet on the clerical side,” she admitted. “I have no experience there. But I can learn. I’m a fast learner.” She wasn’t sure why she added that. Desperation, she supposed.

“Can you write a decent email? That’s not quite as easy to teach.”

“I should be able to. I’m not stupid.” Maybe he thought she was. She didn’t have a college education, like him.

“Then we’ll give it a shot,” he said. “When would you like to start?”

A shot? That didn’t sound too definite. “Eve said something about Monday.”

“Monday is Halloween. But you can take off early if you need to.”

Alexa hadn’t mentioned having Halloween plans, but Sophia figured she should be prepared, just in case. “Thanks. I’ll work until three.”

“Okay. Come here as soon as you get your daughter off to school. What time will that be?”

“We leave the house at seven-thirty.”

“Eight, then?”

“That should be fine.”

“See you Monday.”

She hurried to catch him before he could hang up. “There’s one more thing….”

“What is it?”

“A clarification, actually. Eve said Lex can come to your place after school until I get off work. Is that true?”

“It is. You can have dinner here so you only have to make it once.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Not a problem.”

Her brain conjured up the memory that came to her whenever she saw him—at coffee or even in town. It was of Ted during his first trip home from college. They hadn’t seen each other for almost a month and could hardly breathe, they were so eager to touch, to kiss, to get naked. She’d never had a more exciting sexual encounter than when he’d taken her directly to the shack. She could still feel the pressure of him, pinning her to the old mattress they’d brought there months before.

“Sophia?”

She gripped the phone more tightly. “What?”

“Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you.” She had to forget about that night and all the other times they’d been together, she told herself. She couldn’t blow this opportunity, or Skip and what he’d done would destroy her yet.

11

The weekend went fast because Sophia had something to look forward to. She knew working wouldn’t be easy, especially working for Ted. He could be critical and demanding, and he didn’t like her to begin with. But just knowing she had a job— that she’d be making $2,500 a month and should be able to get through the winter—lifted the heavy cloud of doom that had hung over her. She could get out of bed in the morning. She could shower and dress and put on her makeup. She could even clean the house—which was easier to do now that it was almost bare.

Fortunately, she still had a few of her belongings. Eve had lost her temper and ordered everyone out once they started getting into her cupboards and trying to take things she’d be hard-pressed to live without. Thanks to that timely intervention, Sophia had the basics—a kettle, toaster and so on. And she finally felt energetic enough to spend time with Lex. She wished she’d been more supportive of her daughter over the past two weeks, but she had to ward off that regret, along with any other negative emotion, or she risked a setback.

She had to move forward, do the best she could.

They used some of the money she had left to go grocery shopping and restock the cupboards. Sophia even splurged and took Lex to Just Like Mom’s for a milkshake on Sunday night. To her, it was a celebration of the hope and kindness that had come to her rescue.

“You seem to be feeling better.” Alexa eyed her while spooning ice cream into her mouth.

Relieved to have her energy back, Sophia smiled. “I am.”

“You’ll be able to go to your new job, then? The way you are right now…happy…it will last?”

The poor kid didn’t know what she could count on.

Sophia was just as frightened that the despair would return, but she tried to reassure Alexa. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m back on my feet. Everything will be okay.” Having the chance to rebuild, to break her fall before it was too late, brought a lump to her throat. She’d almost given up!

How ironic that Eve had become involved, since they’d never really been friends, and that Ted had offered her the job she needed despite their history. He hadn’t even made her apply for it. Not really.

She could dwell on Eve’s kindness, which she was so grateful for—hers and Gail’s—but not Ted’s. Gail had called to check in with her just yesterday. She didn’t want to get her hopes and expectations up where Ted was concerned, didn’t want to imbue this job offer with more meaning than it had. But…it was tempting. She’d often felt such revulsion when Skip was making love to her that she’d imagine he was Ted just to get through it, especially when he demanded that she moan and writhe and pretend to enjoy herself. She knew those fantasies would complicate her situation if she let them.

A group of preteens entered the restaurant. They noticed Alexa but didn’t come over to say hello. They whispered behind their hands and giggled, as if it was funny to see her sitting there.

The moment Alexa noticed them she dropped her spoon, even though she’d barely started on her shake. “Can we go?”

Sophia tucked her own hair behind her ears. It wasn’t comfortable for her to be out in public, either. She felt so disliked and unwanted. But letting Skip’s investors strip the house seemed to have neutralized her worst enemies. When they’d gone shopping at the grocery store, and even now, she felt a tentative truce between her and the citizens of Whiskey Creek. No one acted pleased to see her, but they didn’t glare at her like before. They usually glanced away.

“You’re ready to go?” Sophia asked. “But you were so excited about coming here. And that’s your favorite shake.”

“I’ve had enough.”

The girls were crowding into a booth along the wall. Sophia recognized them; they’d been over to the house several times in the past, although not since Skip’s death. “Aren’t you part of that group anymore?” Sophia asked.

Alexa shook her head.

“But you said everything was going well at school.”

Alexa shrugged, keeping her eyes on her food. “It’s fine. I can deal with it.”