Chapter Twenty Four
“Y ou don’t have to worry,” Mila said. “Ag will tell you what to do. You know what’s she’s like. Just make sure they’re in bed by seven. Dash can read for a half hour, Ag can read for an hour.”
“Fine,” said Tilly. Honestly, she was a police officer. She was trained to deal with drunk and disorderly adults. Surely she could handle two small children.
“You’re not allowed to use handcuffs, pepper spray, or your baton,” Max said, reading her mind. “That makes it a whole lot more difficult.”
“I’ll be fine,” said Tilly. “You just go out and have a nice time.”
“We won’t be late,” Mila said.
“We’re only going for a meal,” said Max.
“Just have fun,” said Tilly, ushering them out of the house.
The next hour was taken up with getting the kids dinner and getting them to actually eat it rather than talk through it. In the end, Tilly had to institute a no talking at the table rule, which Dash neatly avoided by simply getting out of his chair every time he had something to say.
By the time the doorbell rang, Tilly hadn’t had a second to be nervous about Sophie coming. Normally, she’d have been panicking by now, straightening cushions, brushing her teeth multiple times, wondering if she was going to make a good impression.
But she opened the door with spaghetti on her shirt and a lock of hair falling over one eye.
“Is that blood or ketchup?” Sophie asked, leaning in to see Tilly’s face better in the light.
“Ketchup,” Tilly said. “Probably.” She wiped her arm across her face. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” laughed Sophie. “I know Ag and Dash of old. They’re a handful.”
“What’s a handful?” Dash asked, strolling out of the kitchen with a large bottle of coke in both hands.
“You are,” said Sophie. “And I’ve got a feeling that you’re not supposed to have that.”
“I’m not going to drink it,” Dash said, as though the very thought of it was unbelievable. “I’m going to throw it out of the window upstairs ‘cos Ag says it’s going to explode.”
“It will explode,” said Ag, following her brother out of the kitchen. “Do you want to watch?”
Tilly shared a look with Sophie. “Um, that’s probably a mum and dad activity, so maybe wait until tomorrow?” she said. “Ag, why don’t you play your concert piece for Sophie? Soph’s in the choir, you know?”
“Yay,” Ag said. She took Sophie’s hand. “Come on. You can tell me about Billy. I mean, Ms. Brooke. She’s my piano teacher and your choir teacher.”
“Sorry,” Tilly said. “Let me just get Dash clean and I’ll be in to rescue you.”
“We’ll be fine,” Sophie said, laughing as Ag dragged her away.
DASH RAN DOWNSTAIRS in his pajamas, Tilly following him, hoping that Ag hadn’t talked Sophie to death.
“You’re going to sing for us,” Ag announced as Tilly went into the living room.
“We are?” asked Tilly.
“Hurray,” Dash said, bouncing on the couch.
“Sorry,” Sophie said. “But Ag insists on hearing it. Is it alright? I thought we could do with the practice, and Ag can play the accompaniment.”
“Fine by me,” Tilly said. “But Dash can only listen if he sits down quietly.”
The boy immediately crashed down onto the couch, crossed his legs and arms, and pressed his lips tightly closed.
“Are you ready?” Ag asked.
Tilly glanced at Sophie and shrugged. “I suppose.”
The first notes rang out from the piano and Tilly took a breath. She was a bit wobbly at first, but after a bar, Sophie joined in, and suddenly singing was easier than breathing. There was something about doing it together that just made it natural.
She edged closer to Sophie, wanting to hear better how their voices melded, and by the time the final note was hanging in the air, she was feeling a warm buzz.
“That was really good,” Ag said, closing the piano.
“Yeah, it was great,” agreed Dash. “You two should get married now.”
“What?” Tilly said at the same time as Sophie said, “Dash!”
“You can’t tell people to get married,” Ag told her brother.
“Why not?” he grumbled. “They could sing all the time together then, couldn’t they? Isn’t that what married people do?”
“Sing?” asked Tilly, slightly confused.
“No, be together,” Dash said. “Except when they’re at work.” He tilted his head to one side in thought. “Sometimes they do arguments.”
“Discussions,” corrected Ag.
“Right,” agreed Dash.
Tilly pinched the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb and sighed a deep sigh. “I really think it’s time for bed,” she said. “Sophie, can you order some pizza while I get these two upstairs?”
“Glad to,” Sophie said, collapsing down on the couch and pulling out her phone.
HALF AN HOUR later, and the doorbell rang again. Tilly, exhausted by now, jogged down the stairs, paid for the pizza, closed the door, and turned around to find herself face to face with Sophie.
“Jesus, sorry,” she said.
“It’s fine,” said Sophie. “Kids okay?”
“In bed, reading, and about to go to sleep, I think.” Tilly frowned. “I’m really sorry. Maybe this was a bad idea. I had no idea how tiring all of this was going to be.”
“It’s a baptism by fire,” Sophie said, taking the pizza from her. “You know, if we ever think we want kids, we can look back on tonight and make an informed decision.” She’d been walking down the hallway, but she stopped suddenly. “Um…”
“It’s alright,” Tilly laughed. “You didn’t scare me off.”
“I didn’t mean want kids together or anything,” said Sophie. “I just meant individually. Or, you know, together, or whatever, or—”
“Maybe we should start in on that pizza before it gets too cold?” suggested Tilly.
“Right,” Sophie said, carrying the box into the kitchen.
“I’ll get some napkins,” Tilly said, finding a roll of paper towels.
“Do they argue much, Max and Mila?” Sophie said, sitting down at the table and opening the box. “They don’t look like the type.”
Tilly rolled her eyes and sat down. “That’s just Dash talking out of school. I mean, they have had a few discussions while I’ve been here. But I’m not sure I’m the greatest judge of what’s normal and what’s not in that regard.”
“Oh?” Sophie took a slice of pizza.
“Child of divorce,” Tilly explained. “My mum and dad argued like it was a competitive sport. Then, um, then my mum left.”
“You stayed with your dad?”
“It was my choice,” said Tilly.
“I grew up with my dad too,” said Sophie. “My mum died when I was little.”
“I did hear that.” Tilly looked over at Sophie’s calm face. “I’m sorry.”
“I barely remember her,” Sophie said. “I’d like to, but I really don’t. It’s hard to miss someone that you never really knew. I think probably I miss the idea of a mum more than I miss my actual mum.” She grimaced. “That sounds heartless.”
“No, it sounds honest,” Tilly said. “I’m not sure if I miss my mum at all, if I’m going to be honest. My dad and I always got along really well. We’re similar people. He’s in the police, too.”
“Ah,” said Sophie.
“Ah what?”
She shook her head. “I was just thinking, amateur analysis and all that. Missing mums explains a bit, doesn’t it?”
“Does it?” asked Tilly, taking a bite of pizza.
“Well, you’re job focused in an effort to prove yourself to your policeman father, and I’m family focused in order to please my widowed dad. We both had to grow up pretty fast, I’m guessing. And we’re probably both a little too concerned with pleasing people.”
Tilly took that in. “I suppose. I’m not sure my dad would have been angry if I didn’t join the force, though.”
“Mine wouldn’t be angry if I left the garage,” Sophie said. “But he would be hurt. And somehow that’s worse, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Tilly said. “Yes, it is.”
“And this has now turned into a pity party, oops,” laughed Sophie. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to get so deep so soon. Want to talk about football or music or something?”
Tilly shook her head. “No, no, I don’t mind.” She smiled. “I feel like we always jump in with both feet. It’s kind of… us.”
“So there’s an us?” Sophie asked, taking another slice of pizza.
“Is there not?” Tilly’s heart beat a little faster, her hands got sweaty. “Am I overstepping?”
But Sophie laughed. “I’m teasing you,” she said. “I know what you mean. All of this has been quick, but then I don’t see how it couldn’t be. You know, my mum and dad got married after three weeks.”
“Three weeks?”
Sophie nodded. “My mum needed the visa to stay in the country and my dad didn’t want her to leave. He always says that when you know, you know. I didn’t really understand. Until now.”
“You know?”
“Do you not?”
It was Tilly’s turn to laugh. “I’m kidding now. Yes, I know. This has never happened to me before, but I suddenly don’t want you not to be in my life. Which is weird, but it’s how it is.”
“Same,” said Sophie, putting pizza crust down on her plate. “But I’m fully aware that this isn’t… normal. That there are things standing in our way.”
“Who’s to say what’s normal?” said Tilly. “We can do things our own way if we like. I don’t see how it’s anyone’s business but ours.”
She looked across the table at Sophie’s smile, at the curve of her cheek, at the light on her skin, and her heart filled so full that she could barely breathe. There was an us. She could feel it, could feel the connection between them.
“Tilly?”
“Mmm?”
“How would you feel about perhaps going upstairs?”
“Upstairs?”
“You do have a bed here, right?” asked Sophie, dabbing at her lips with a piece of paper towel.
“I do.”
Sophie looked at her with large, dark eyes and Tilly’s pulse beat under her skin. “So?”
“So,” said Tilly.
And going upstairs seemed like the most natural thing in the world.