A Walk Down the Aisle

Colton didn’t respond. He simply nodded and turned and walked down the hall. She followed as far as the kitchen doorway. She watched as he opened the front door and walked through it. He shut it behind him softly but firmly. The sound of the door latch clicking into place wasn’t loud, but to Sophie, it was defining, and something she’d remember for the rest of her life.

It would haunt her, along with the sound of her own screams as she’d begged them to allow her to at least hold her baby one time. Please, she’d begged over and over, crying hysterically.

She hadn’t begged Colton. And she wasn’t crying. She felt as if she wanted to. That maybe if she did, some of the almost unbearable pressure, which seemed to press on her from all sides, would ease. But she didn’t.

Couldn’t.

Colton was a simple man. An honest man. He was a man who believed in hard work, laughter and, most of all, love.

Sophie knew the truth of the situation. Colton would have accepted her past. He could have forgiven her anything...as long as she’d offered him the chance.

She’d never be able to make him understand that even now, talking about her childhood, about her pregnancy, was almost impossible.

God, she wanted to cry.

She wanted to blame her parents for ruining yet another relationship for her. She wanted to add one more black mark against them as parents.

But she knew she couldn’t blame this on them.

She’d done this on her own.

She’d had the perfect man and she’d let him go.

She put her palm to her cheek, on the spot where he’d kissed her.

That was it. The last time they’d ever touch, and the only thing that had ever come close to hurting as much as that moment they’d taken her daughter from her.

Yesterday, she’d touched her daughter for the first time ever when she’d run her finger across Tori’s cheek. Today she’d touched the love of her life for the last time.

The enormity of both moments would stay with her forever.

She wanted to crawl into bed and spend the day crying about Colton, but she couldn’t. She had Tori to think about.

Her baby girl.

All these years of worrying and wondering.

And Victoria Peace Allen was here in Valley Ridge.

Even though her parents would take her home this afternoon, Sophie had seen her. Touched her. She knew that Tori was loved and she’d been cared for.

Sophie knew her decision to let the Allens raise her daughter had been the right one.

In one hour she’d see Tori again.

The knowledge wasn’t enough to assuage her pain at losing Colton, but for now, Sophie pushed the hurt back. Compartmentalizing was something she was an expert at. Someday she’d pull out that last scene with Colton. She’d replay it and allow herself to feel it. But not today. Today Tori had to come first.

Sophie sat at the table in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in front of her, and watched the clock.

A half hour before she was supposed to meet the Allens, she got up and walked to the diner.

The Valley Ridge Diner looked as if it came out of a scene from Happy Days. Vintage Formica tables, a jukebox in the corner and Hank Bennington behind the counter, a coffeepot in hand. “How are you, sweetheart?” he asked as she walked past him.

Sophie knew that he wasn’t asking because of the canceled wedding. There was no sympathy or hidden question in his greeting. Hank had Alzheimer’s. It was in the early stages, and some days were better than others, but she suspected he’d forgotten about the ceremony, just as he’d forgotten her name again.

“I’m fine, Hank,” she said. “I’m going to take the back booth. I’m waiting for some visitors.”

“You help yourself to whatever seat you want, darling. I’ll bring you coffee.”

The diner was virtually empty. It was too late for most of its breakfast crowd, and too early for the lunch crowd. The only other customer was Marilee from the MarVee’s Quarters. It was odd to see her without her partner, Vivienne. They had a Penn & Teller sort of relationship; they were almost always together, and Marilee did most of the talking. Today she was talking to Connie Nies, who worked for Colton at the winery.

Both women looked up as she walked by. “Sophie, we’re so sorry,” Marilee said. “I’m not asking what happened, but if there’s anything you want us to pass on, we’d be happy to.”

Knowing that any news of note tended to filter through Marilee and Quarters, Sophie considered a moment, then nodded. “Two things would be helpful. You could let everyone know that Colton and I have decided to call off the wedding permanently. And you can let everyone know that it was my fault. I don’t want to go into details, but Colton deserves everyone’s sympathy.”

Marilee patted Sophie’s hand. “Sweetheart, I will definitely circulate that, but as much as I love Colton, everyone knows it takes two to make a relationship work...and two to make it fall apart.”

“Maybe in most cases, but not this time. This time, it’s all on me.” She turned to Connie. “You keep an eye on him when you’re working, okay? He’s so busy in the summer, he sometimes forgets to take care of himself.” She’d planned on being the one there to see to it that he did. She’d planned on making sure he ate a balanced diet, not simply coffee and sandwiches on the go.

Her plans had popped like a bubble yesterday. “Thanks,” she said, and fled to the back of the diner. She sat down at the back booth, and thought about all the things she’d planned that would never happen.

And no matter what Marilee said, she knew it was completely her fault.

Hank brought her back a cup of coffee as Gloria and Dom came in. “Let me get a couple more cups,” Hank said.

“I hope you don’t mind, but we asked Tori to give us a half hour before she arrived.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Sophie said. “It will give me a chance to assure you that I will do whatever you both want. If you prefer I not communicate with Tori, I understand. I—”

Hank came back with two more coffee cups. After he poured Dom’s and Gloria’s, he asked, “Are you all ready to order?”

“We’re waiting for one more person, Hank,” Sophie said. “So, in a half hour or so, after she’s arrived.”

“Great. I’ll check back with the coffee.”

“Thank you,” Gloria said to Hank, then turned to Sophie. “Tori let us know in no uncertain terms what she wants. We spent a great deal of the night discussing what to do.”

“You might not have noticed, but Tori is slightly strong willed,” Dom said with the right hint of sarcasm.

“That’s an understatement,” Gloria muttered, taking a sip of her coffee as if to fortify herself, then jumped in. “I called the police department this morning. And spoke to some officer named Dylan?”

Sophie nodded. “Yes. He’s a good guy.”

“And he assured me that you’re not a felon. In addition to that, he gave me a glowing report on you as a person. He swears you’re one of the good ones. He talked about how you stepped in and helped when some woman named Bridget passed away this last winter?”

“Bridget was my first friend here in Valley Ridge. I met her at the grocery store. Her daughter Abbey wanted cookies, and when Bridget said no, Abbey had a bit of a toddler temper tantrum. Bridget came over and said, ‘Talk to me, please? I need to ignore my daughter’s outburst, and if you would make a bit of a fuss about the other two kids and how well they’re behaving, she’ll come around.’

“So, I knelt down and talked to Zoe and Mickey, asked them about school and praised their good grades and, eventually, Abbey came over and told me that she’d colored a cow and could she give it to me? Later that night, they all walked over to present me with my cow picture—which by the way looked like two ovals with four sticks for feet—and I went for a walk with them. After that, well, Bridget was one of my best friends in town. When she got sick, her friend Mattie came home, and Lily, who’s a nurse, came to care for her, and the three of us became friends, too. It helped having someone to rely on when Bridget passed.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Dom said.

Sophie blinked back tears, knowing that if she started crying over Bridget, she’d start crying over Colton, over the fact that the life she’d planned and longed for was gone.

“Thank you,” she managed.

“Dylan said the three of you practically lived at Bridget’s while she was sick,” Dom said.

Sophie wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement, so she simply replied, “She was my friend. And the kids needed all the support they could get.”

Gloria nodded, as if that explained everything. “If you cared that much about a friend and her children, I can’t imagine that you wouldn’t be as careful with my—our daughter.”

“Your daughter,” Sophie corrected. “I meant what I said last night. I get that Tori is your daughter. I gave birth to her, but she’s yours.”

“Listen,” Dom said, “my wife and daughter laugh that I’m a hippie. I tell them all the time that my parents were the hippies, and I was only a kid who went along for the ride. I grew up on a commune, and there was this woman I called Mama Rose. She ran the kitchen, and when the adults were out, she watched over all the little ones. I loved her. All the kids did. We all loved her, and I still send her a Mother’s Day card every year. But that never changed the fact I loved my own mother and father. I knew who my parents were, even though I loved Mama Rose. My aunt, who is not, nor ever was, a hippie, asked my mother how she could stand that I loved Mama Rose, and my mother laughed and said, ‘You can’t run out of love. There’s always enough to go around.’”

“I like that saying.” Sophie nodded, understanding what he was saying. She repeated, “You can’t run out of love.”

Dom nodded. “I like it, too. I want you to understand that we’re not worried Tori will forget we love her, or that she loves us.”

Sophie glanced at Gloria and her expression wasn’t quite as assured as Dom’s, but Sophie understood that. Sophie was Tori’s birth mom. She suspected having her in the picture was harder on Gloria than Dom. “I’m glad, because I might have given birth to her, but I never held her when she was sick, comforted her after a bad dream. I never hugged her after a hard day of school, or celebrated after a good one. I’d be happy to have a part in her life, but it can never be as her mom.”

Something in Gloria’s expression relaxed. “I’m glad you want to a part of her life because she’s demanding that she be allowed to spend time with you this summer and swears if we don’t, she’ll run away.” Gloria’s voice dropped. “Tori might have a way with anything mechanical, but I will have nightmares for the rest of my life about what could have happened when she stole the car and drove here. I can’t live through that again.”

“So, we’ve decided that if you’ll agree, we’ll let her spend some time with you this summer.” Dom reached over and took Gloria’s hand.

Gloria had on a pair of dress slacks, a turquoise blouse and well-matched jewelry. She looked sleek and put together. Dom wore an old Rolling Stones T-shirt, splattered with bits of blue paint, and Sophie wasn’t sure the last time a brush had touched his rumpled-looking hair. And yet, despite those differences, Gloria and Dom fit together. They were a united couple. And they were the kind of parents she wished she’d had—parents who put their children’s needs first.

And though she’d always believed she’d made the right decision for her daughter, she felt reassured yet again. These two people loved Tori enough to share her because Tori wanted, or maybe needed, it. “I can take her whenever you want, for however long you want.”

She felt a spurt of elation at the thought of spending time getting to know Tori. It mixed right in with her other chaotic and jumbled emotions.

“Don’t you have to work?” Gloria asked.

Sophie thought of Colton’s comment about her being rich, and for once her trust fund didn’t seem like a thing to feel guilty about, but rather a blessing that allowed her flexibility and freedom to do whatever Tori needed. “I can work around whatever you have in mind. It’s an advantage of being self-employed.”

“Then, what we’re proposing is we take Tori home for the week and she can pack, then we’ll come back next weekend. JoAnn at the bed-and-breakfast said she’d put rooms aside for us each weekend this summer. During the week, Tori will stay with you, and we’ll come down each weekend to spend time with her and get to know you better. If my daughter has her way—”

“And she always does,” Dom informed Sophie.

“—we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“You’re going to let Tori stay with me?” In her wildest imagination, she’d never dreamed this particular scenario. “Really, you don’t know—”

“We talked to Dylan, and you can be sure, we’ll be talking to other people in town....” Gloria shook her head. “It’s not ideal. I’ll want Tori to call every night. But I don’t know what else to do. She’s very determined.”

“That was an understatement,” Dom agreed. “But the three of us will need to come to some agreement on a proper punishment. Stealing a car is serious. There has to be some sort of repercussion.”

Listening to a man who grew up on a commune talk about repercussions sounded strange.

Dom must have sensed her thought because he laughed. “Like I said, Mom and Dad are the hippies. I’m a father who loves his daughter enough to see to it she understands the gravity of what she’s done. And I understand her enough to realize that she won’t let go of the notion of getting to know you. It’s not that she wants to know about you and spend time with you—she needs to. Just like she needed to see how the television worked when she was five and took it apart. She tried for a week to figure out how it worked, then—”

“She put it back together,” Gloria finished, her pride evident. “She understands how things work. And not just electronics and cars, but computers. She can take them apart physically, and she can do pretty much anything with them in a programming basis. She simply gets it. And when she needs to understand things, she’s like a dog with a bone. She won’t let go until she does. Right now, she needs to know you, to understand you. And nothing Dom and I say will dissuade her.”

“I realize having her here will disrupt your summer,” Dom started.

“I would let anything and everything fall to the wayside in order to spend time with Tori,” Sophie told them. She was in awe of these two people, her daughter’s parents. Their putting Tori’s needs first contrasted her parents’ need to put image first.

“Then, we’re decided,” Dom said. “We’ll head home today and bring her back next Friday night, and stay the weekend. Then, that Monday, she’ll stay with you?”

Sophie suddenly remembered a saying about doors closing and windows opening. The sound of Colton closing that door this morning would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life, but having Tori come stay with her, getting to know the daughter she had lost—that was more than a window opening. It was as if a cyclone had blown the whole darned house to Oz. Everything was suddenly in Technicolor and anything was possible.

Sophie remembered she hadn’t answered. “Yes. I swear I’ll take good care of your daughter. And as for her punishment for stealing a car, I think I have an idea.”

* * *

THE REST OF THE DAY was a blur. Sophie made arrangements for Tori’s punishment, although in her mind, it was a wonderful way to spend a summer.

She decided that she could balance having Tori with her work. Tori would do her punishment time, but when she was off, she could come to the wineries when needed. Not that she would be needed for a few weeks. Sophie had taken two weeks off for her honeymoon, so she had unanticipated free time.

She went home and started to unpack her boxes, ignoring what she’d imagined she’d be doing with the contents when she’d packed them. She ignored the fact that she’d planned on putting her grandmother’s desk in the corner of Colton’s office. She ignored that she’d imagined the two of them sitting in the office in the evening, Colton working on the farm’s books and herself working on winery promotions.

That future was over now.

But there was a new future. One that included her daughter.

Doors closing...windows opening.

That was her new mantra.

Getting to know Tori was her window. Tori would be here on Friday. Sophie concentrated on that fact as she studied her guest room. She wanted to do it over for Tori.

A double bed, a small dresser and nothing else. She’d removed the minutia and packed it away.

She decided she wouldn’t put anything back in the guest room. She’d let Tori decorate the room. She could paint it, too, if she wanted.

Maybe blue to match her hair?

She smiled at the thought. Tori was unique. And she had parents who seemed to encourage that uniqueness.

Sophie wondered what it would have been like to have that kind of love and support.

Her doorbell rang as she started to slip into the past, wondering about what-ifs. She was thankful for the interruption, but she didn’t want to answer the door. She’d stay up here until whoever was there left.

“Sophie, we know you’re in there, and we’re not leaving until you let us in,” came Mattie Keith’s voice.

Sophie didn’t need to wonder who the other part of Mattie’s we was. She went down, opened the door and found Mattie with Lily.

“Listen, I’m not really up for company...” she started, but let the sentence fade on its own because as she looked at her friends, she knew they weren’t leaving until she let them in. “Fine, come on in.”

“I brought some wine,” Mattie said. “And Lily’s got the fixings for bruschetta. That was our girls’ night option. But in case we need something stronger than that, I brought...” She reached into her grocery bag and pulled out a pint of ice cream. “I bought one of every flavor they had.”

“I think we might need some of both,” Lily said.

Both women walked through the door without an invitation. They looked at the half-unpacked boxes. “Packing?” Mattie asked.

“Unpacking,” Sophie told her. She saw understanding register in both Lily’s and Mattie’s expressions. “The wedding’s off.”

“Temporarily?” Lily asked.

“I don’t think so,” Sophie admitted. She’d like to think she and Colton could find a way to fix things, but she remembered his expression before he turned and walked out of her house. There was a sense of finality in it. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lily asked gently.

“No, of course she doesn’t want to talk about it,” Mattie said with an air of surety. “But she needs to talk about it, even if she doesn’t know it. First some wine, then some talk. Speaking of wine, there’s a chance I won’t be drinking much more of the stuff. Finn and I are talking about adding to the family.”

“You and Finn are that serious?” Lily asked as she put her grocery bag on Sophie’s counter.

“We’re talking about a quick marriage in August.” Mattie glanced at Sophie. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but Finn said you’d want to know. That you’d find out eventually anyway.”

“Are you kidding?” Doors and windows, Sophie thought as she hugged her friend. “Of course I want to know. And this calls for a celebration.”

She took the wine out of the bag and dug through her kitchen drawer. “I’ve got a bottle opener somewhere in here.”

Mattie’s hand covered Sophie’s. “I brought one. And while I open the bottle, tell us what happened. Who was that girl?”

Sophie sat at the table and let Mattie and Lily bring over the wine and bruschetta before she answered, “My daughter.”

“You have a daughter and never mentioned it?” Mattie asked, shocked.

Sophie tried to decide how to explain what it was like. How thinking about Tori, much less talking about her, hurt.

She’d known she’d have to tell her friends, but she hadn’t talked to them because she didn’t know what to say. Stalling, Sophie reached for a piece of the bruschetta, and as she brought it to her mouth, she caught the overwhelming scent of garlic. It wafted up her nose, and she felt a sudden wave of nausea. “Pardon me,” she managed as she bolted for the bathroom.

After she was done throwing up, she sank to the floor, covered in a cold sweat.

She never threw up.

The last time she’d been sick was when she was pregnant with Tori.

“Sophie, are you okay?” Mattie called through the bathroom door.

“Fine. I’m fine,” she said, thinking. Trying desperately to remember the last time she’d had a period. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

She sat on the tile floor and leaned against the cool tile wall. The last time she remembered having her period was when Abbey had been sick in the hospital. She’d been buying feminine products when she’d heard the news. It had been a weird period. Light. Really nothing more than splotching. She remembered thinking how odd it was, but hadn’t worried since her cycles had been irregular since she’d gone off her birth control at the beginning of the year.

When had Abbey been sick?

Sophie got up and splashed some cold water on her face, then brushed her teeth and walked out to the kitchen.

“Sophie, are you okay?” Mattie and Lily asked in unison.

She nodded. “Mattie, when was Abbey sick?”

“Why?”

“What was the date?” she repeated without answering why she wanted to know.

“April twenty-eighth. It was a Thursday and it was the scariest moment of my entire life.”

Sophie watched her friends exchange worried looks as she sank into the chair. Two months. She did the math in her head, and if it was true, then sometime at the end of January, beginning of February, she’d have a baby.

She’d have a baby with a man who’d left her.

Again.

She hugged her stomach.

This time, no one, nothing, would tear the baby from her. Colton might not want to marry her, but this baby had been conceived in love. She’d stopped taking birth control pills in January because they knew they wanted a family right after the wedding, and her doctor had suggested it might take some time for her system to regulate. They’d used other precautions but, obviously, they’d failed.

Then she thought about Tori.

If it was true, if she was pregnant, what would the news do to the daughter she’d just found? Or rather the daughter who had found her? A child who already thought Sophie had simply given her away without a second thought or regret.

One week ago, Sophie had been on the cusp of marrying the man of her dreams, starting a family with him and living happily ever after.

This week, the daughter she thought she’d lost forever had stolen a car, come to Valley Ridge and objected to her wedding. Her perfect man had decided she was too much trouble to marry. And for a second time, she might be going through a pregnancy on her own.

Sophie wasn’t sure if the situation was ironic, moronic or simply absurd, but a giggle escaped.

Then another.

Soon she was laughing, and tears were streaming down her face as she hugged her stomach and wondered if it was possible she was pregnant.

“Sophie, you’re scaring us,” Lily said. “Come on, hon. Talk to us. How is it you have a daughter, and why aren’t you and Colton getting married? What’s going on?”

“And, most important, what can we do to help?” Mattie said.

Sophie fought hard to get herself under control. “Do you know the saying about God closing a door, but opening a window? Let’s open that ice cream and I’ll tell you.”

And for the first time in her life, she allowed the story to spill out. She told her friends about her parents, who cared more about image and status than her. She told how her parents had chased off her boyfriend, and their ultimatum to cut her off without a dime, leaving her no way to support her baby. She told them that she’d acquiesced to her parents’ demands and gone to a home. She’d given birth in secret, like someone from a ’50s movie, and how she’d fought to give the baby to people who’d love her rather than the überrich couple her parents had chosen.