Chapter 5
The morning rush at the bakery had been relentless in the best possible way.
By nine-thirty they'd sold out of the cardamom rolls entirely, which was a problem Sophia was happy to have. Now it was eleven and she’d earned the twenty minutes she was currently stealing to walk five blocks down and get a coffee that someone else had made. Plus, she’d really needed the walk.
The shop was busy but not slammed when she pushed through the door.
She got in line, and when she reached the counter she smiled at the woman running the register.
She was new, college age, efficient, but slightly harried.
Sophia placed her order. Whole, organic milk, latte, medium.
The woman typed it in, took her card, and Sophia moved to the side to wait.
She meandered down to the waiting area where there were two baristas.
One was pulling orders with efficient hands and the kind of calm that made the whole operation feel unhurried even when it wasn't. The other was leaning slightly forward, her voice low talking to a customer.
Sophia couldn't hear the words over the noise of the espresso machine.
She didn't need to. The body language was enough.
With a start, Sophia realized the barista was talking to Lettie Bowman.
She started to raise her hand to wave and then stopped.
Lettie wasn't looking around. She was locked in, her head slightly down, listening to whatever the barista was saying with an intensity that had nothing to do with a coffee order.
Her free hand was gripping the strap of her purse, her knuckles white.
Her shoulders were up nearly to her ears.
Sophia bit her lip. It didn’t look good, but she turned. It wasn’t her business.
She studied the chalkboard menu to see if they’d come up with some new pastry she should consider for her shop.
Nope, nothing.
Behind her, someone's toddler announced at full volume that he didn't want the muffin. She checked her phone. A text from Rylie about dropping by, which she'd answer later. Another from Lisa's school about an upcoming field trip, which she started to answer now.
She was halfway through typing when she heard Lettie say harshly, “I told you I was trying.”
Sophia looked over. The barista was smiling as she looked around the shop. “It’s okay, honey. Of course you’re trying.” Her sweet tone was pitch perfect, but Lettie shuddered.
“I’ve got to go,” Lettie muttered.
“We have a new flavor the day after tomorrow. Be sure to come in,” the barista called after her. Then she held up a cup with Lettie’s name on it, but Lettie was already out the door.
“Lettie, you forgot your coffee,” the barista said.
Sophia walked over and picked up Lettie’s drink. “I’ll take this to her.”
“That would be great.” The barista smiled.
Sophia was already moving.
She caught up to Lettie just outside, on the sidewalk, where the morning sun was doing its best and the street was warm and ordinary and nothing at all was wrong.
“Hey.” She held out the cup. “You left this.”
Lettie looked at her. Then at the coffee. Then back at her, and the expression she'd had in the coffee shop was completely gone, replaced by something easy and familiar. “Oh my gosh.” She let out a breath of a laugh. “Sophia. I'm so sorry, I didn't even see you in there.”
“You seemed like you were busy with something.”
Lettie turned and looked back in the window, her expression tightened.
“It’s been a long week.” Lettie took the cup and shook her head. “Tom's been on crazy hours and I'm basically single parenting at this point, so.” She smiled. Practiced around the edges. “You know how it is.”
“I do.” Sophia studied her for a second. “Are you okay?”
“Completely fine.” She said it easily, the way someone said something true. “Just tired. You know how it goes, everything kind of lands on you all at once.”
“Tom's not deployed though, right? You said he was on crazy hours—”
“Extra hours at the base. Same thing, basically.” Lettie waved a hand.
“Who’s the new barista?”
Lettie straightened. “Who?”
“The woman you were talking to. I haven’t seen her around before,”
“Oh she’s been here for a couple of months,” Lettie said quickly.
“Her name is Mary. Listen, I should run.
I've got to get back before Bree gets home from school.” She squeezed Sophia's arm with her free hand, warm and quick.
“Tell Kayla hi from Bree, even though they see each other everyday. And save me one of those cardamom rolls next time, I heard they sell out fast.”
“I'll put one aside for you.”
“You're the best.” She was already moving, unhooking her keys from her purse, heading for the small lot around the corner with the particular efficiency of a woman who had somewhere to be. She didn't look back.
Sophia stood on the sidewalk and watched her go.
Nothing was wrong. Lettie had said so, and she'd said it well, and she'd even made a joke at the end, which was very Lettie. Everything was fine.
Except.
Except Lettie Bowman never forgot things.
In the four years Sophia had known her, she'd never once shown up somewhere without exactly what she needed, never lost track of a school pickup, never let a detail slide.
She was the woman other mothers called when they'd forgotten what time soccer started, because Lettie always knew.
But she'd forgotten a coffee she'd just ordered.
Sophia turned it over once, then tucked it somewhere in the back of her mind.
She went back inside to get her own coffee.
Mary was already holding it out as she approached. “Sophia Gault,” she called out, warm and easy, and set the cup on the counter with a smile.
Sophia took it. Smiled back. Started for the door.
And then stopped.
She turned the cup in her hand. Only Sophia was written on the cup. She hadn't used her card for the pickup order. She’d paid cash.
So how did Mary know her last name?
She grinned. Now she was just being paranoid. If Mary had been working here for months like Lettie said, of course she would know her last name. She owned the bakery for goodness sake.
She pushed through the door and headed back to the bakery. She really needed to walk.
Sophia heard the knock and the door opened in the same second, which meant it was either Rylie or a very polite burglar.
“In the kitchen!”
She pulled the last tray from the oven and set it on the rack, and a moment later Rylie Stanton swept in carrying a large box like she was delivering something sacred. Her dark eyes were lit up the way they got when she'd done something she was very pleased about.
“Don't move,” Rylie said, and whipped out her phone.
“What are you—”
The shutter sound. Sophia reached up and found the flour on her cheek at the exact same moment she heard the whoosh of a text being sent.
“Mason will appreciate that,” Rylie said, entirely unrepentant. She set the box on the kitchen table with a thump. “Now. Come look at this.”
Sophia set down her oven mitt and came over. Rylie was already tearing into the packaging, and what she lifted out made Sophia lean in before she'd even decided to.
A Viking longship. Wooden, intricate, magnificent, high curving prow, a row of shields along each side, and a mechanical gear system that looked like something out of a museum.
“I found this online last week,” Rylie said. “I bought two. Dropped one off at Georgie's on my way here.” She looked up. “And I bought one for Dare. For when he gets home.”
Sophia felt her heart turn over a little. That was so purely Rylie, already thinking about his homecoming, already planning the gift. “He's going to love it.”
“I know, right?” Rylie was practically vibrating.
“It's called a drakkar. That's what the Norse called their longships. It literally means dragon. Eight to eleventh century.” She pointed to the back of the box.
“Two hundred and twenty-nine laser-cut wooden pieces, and when you plug it in via USB, the flywheel drives all twelve oars at the same time.
They actually row, Sophia. Like it's sailing.”
“That's incredible.” Sophia turned the box in her hands, genuinely charmed by it.
“Hell, if Sawyer weren’t on some assignment for the agency-that-shall-not-be-named, and I knew where he was, I would have bought one for him too!”
“How is Sawyer? The last time Billy told me anything, he said that he was on a liquid diet of coffee and protein drinks and trying to save the world.”
“I worry about him, Sophia. Ever since he, Billy and Austin left the SEAL teams, and Sawyer went to work for the CIA, he’s changed. He’s closed up. He’s gone dark.”
“I understand. Billy seems to be floundering. I think Sawyer has found something to do, but it’s eating him up inside, but Billy hasn’t found a cause,” Sophia said.
“At least according to Kenna, Austin has his shit together.”
“There is that. So, what did Georgie think of his gift?” Sophia asked, changing subjects.
“Georgie lost his mind.” Rylie's voice shifted, went somewhere softer. “In the best possible way.” She set the box down and pressed a hand flat against her sternum. “He hugged me. Real hug. Both arms. Ten full seconds.” She paused. “I counted.”
Sophia thought back to when she’d first met Georgie, the little seven-year-old boy who Rylie fiercely loved and she had just been twenty-two and trying to keep a rag-tag group of foster kids together.
Now Sophia looked at Rylie, at the brightness in her eyes she was trying to blink back, and felt the full weight of what that meant.
Eighteen years. Eighteen years of patience and fighting and showing up, and a ten-second hug was the trophy. “You're a good mother, Rylie.”
“Don't.” Rylie pointed at her. “I'll cry and I just decided not to.” She straightened and looked at the cooling rack. “Are those ready?”
“They need ten minutes.”