Chapter 31
31
Sophie
I half expected Natalie to pass out as soon as she was buckled into the passenger seat. By the sounds of it, she hasn’t had a full night’s sleep since those two blue lines first appeared on her pregnancy test. And there’s no wonder as to why. But instead, she has the alertness of a teenager at a sleepover after drinking one too many Red Bulls.
When Agent Terrell walked us out of the station, he promised he would keep us in the loop as the investigation progressed and encouraged us to call him if anything came up. He warned me privately to keep a close eye on Natalie in the coming weeks as the emotional fallout from these types of cases can hit hard, and he encouraged me to get her into counseling with a professional so she can find the healing she deserves.
I assured him I’d do everything in my power to help her walk this difficult road and thanked him for his concern and care.
By the time I navigate us through two different drive-throughs to ap pease Natalie’s pregnancy cravings—chicken tacos with extra hot sauce and a vanilla soft serve ice cream cone—it’s nearly midnight. Now, with cone in hand, she’s finally trying to unwind by scrolling on her phone and watching funny reels. I’m glad that one of us still has some battery life left. My phone died hours ago.
She bolts straight upright. “What the—”
“What?” I squeal, fighting to stay in my own lane.
“There’s a few notifications from the winery’s security cameras.” She’s frantically tapping at her phone screen and zooming in on a grainy figure. “Someone’s there, Sophie.”
“Who?” My gut flips. “Is it one of the employees?” But even as I ask it, I have no clue why any of our employees would be on the property at this time of night on a Saturday. We’re closed on Sundays.
“I don’t know, I don’t recognize him.” She holds the screen up in the dark cab. “Do you?”
I slow the pickup truck as I spare a quick glance at her screen. My jaw slacks as soon as recognition sets in.
“What?” Natalie’s voice has jumped several rungs on the panic ladder. “Do you know him? Maybe we should pull over so I can call Agent Terrell? He offered to provide us with a security detail if we—”
“It’s August.”
“August as in your August?”
“Yes,” I confirm. My August . At least, that’s what my heart still calls him.
She holds the phone closer to her face. “So why is he out there? And more importantly, why is he sleeping on a pool chaise with your cat?”
I twist my head and gawk at her. “He’s doing what ?”
“Hang on, let me rewind until ... oh.” She watches for several more seconds and then taps on the screen to pause it. “Looks like he had a chat with him first.”
“I highly doubt that. August is not a cat fan.”
“Hang on. Here.” Natalie turns up the volume on her phone and soon, August’s voice fills the cab.
“You know, I never much cared for the talking-animal movies as a kid, but I can definitely see how that particular brand of magic would come in handy right about now.”
Natalie and I glance at each other and bust out laughing. This really is happening. August, the self-proclaimed cat nemesis, has been caught on video making small talk with Phantom. We eavesdrop on his one-way conversation the rest of the way home. Natalie oohs and ahhs when August asks Phantom if he thinks I’ve already left for the airport, and I can’t help the fluttery, hopeful feeling that inflates my lungs.
Natalie beams at her phone screen as if she’s watching a popular reality TV show, and I tuck this moment away for safekeeping. Natalie’s last few years have been terrible, the last few weeks even more so, but tonight she’s found a reason to smile again. And that feels like the beginning of something good.
“Looks like he dozed off out there,” she says as I pull up to the house. “He’s gonna freeze if you leave him out there too long.”
“He’ll be fine.” I love the man, but at the moment, he has a lot of explaining to do before I run into his arms and forget all about what he said—and didn’t say—the last night we spent together at the fire.
I unbuckle and come around to Natalie’s door to help her out so she doesn’t trip over all the excess fabric she’s toting around in that dress. “Let’s get you inside and up the stairs so I can help you out of this—”
“No.” Her stare is resolved. “I’m not as fragile as I look, Sophie. I plan to take a hot bath and then fall asleep in a room I haven’t slept in before.” She gives me a quick hug. “Thank you for everything you did for me tonight. I’ll never forget it.”
I hold on to her arms as she starts to pull away. “I’m gonna stay in the main house with you. I’ll take the couch downstairs, just in case you need something.”
She opens her mouth as if to refute, then reconsiders. “I appreciate that.” She plants one of her ruby red flats on the walkway to the main house before twisting back. “Feel free to bring Phantom inside with you. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I wat ch until she’s through the door and has turned on the main light before I take a path I’ve walked a million times before—as a little girl who dreamed of acting on a big stage, as a teenager too afraid to use her voice in her own home, and now as an adult whose dreams and voice have changed in more ways than one.
I switch on the outside lights, located on the back side of the house. They illuminate August asleep on a lounge chair with my cat perched on his chest. Despite wanting to be near him more than I want anything else in the world, I cannot allow my emotions to take the driver’s seat.
The dull patter of my shoes on tile is enough to perk Phantom’s ears, but he doesn’t move. His amber eye glows against the night sky, tracking me across the patterned tile as if to say, I’ve found my new BFF . Traitor.
There’s a sliver of cushion next to August’s right hip on the edge of the chaise, but I don’t take it, even though I want to. Instead, I stand at the end of the narrow lounge chair by his feet and tap it with my boot. He doesn’t budge. I tap it again. This time, Phantom looks at me like he’s cussing me out. When I tap a third time, August jackknifes up, evicting my cat.
He blinks and blinks and blinks and then scrambles to his feet. “Sophie. You’re home.”
“Yes,” I rasp, my throat tight at seeing him this close after so long of not seeing him at all. “And you’re here.”
A chill rips through the air, and August promptly unzips his fleece and drapes it over my shoulders around my back. I could suggest we go inside the giant, warm house across the path, but neither of us looks like comfort has been our top priority in the recent hours. Or perhaps the recent weeks. August is likely halfway frozen by now, and I’m halfway to brain fry after the night I’ve had.
And yet, my voice is still alive and well.
“You hurt me, August,” I say.
He glances down at his feet and then finds my gaze again. “I know I did, and I ... I’m trying really hard not to hate myself for that. For what I said to you that night, and especially for what I didn’t say to you. I’m sorry. I’ve been a coward.”
My he art beats double time at this. “I’d never want you to hate yourself.”
The tiniest hint of a smile twists on his lips. “Does that mean it’s not too late for me to give you a reason to stay?”
The tip of my nose begins to tingle with coming tears. “I suppose that depends on your reason.”
He holds out his hand to me. “Will you sit with me a minute?”
And just that—just that small gesture alone—makes me lightheaded with hope.
I give him my hand, and we find our seat on the chaise, our bodies angled to face each other. He keeps hold of my hand.
“I’ve lied to you by omission for months, thinking that if I held back what I really feel for you I would somehow protect you from the worst parts of me. But I’m learning that love doesn’t work that way. I couldn’t compartmentalize it like I could everything else. I couldn’t compartmentalize you .” He takes in a slow breath. “Somehow, you managed to shine a light on every dark place I’ve been too ashamed for you to see. And still...” He swallows hard. “You loved me anyway.”
“ Love ,” I correct softly as tears trail down my face. “What I feel for you is present tense.”
He cups my cheek with his hand. “And what I feel for you is also present tense. So much so that if you hadn’t come home tonight, I was planning to implement the buddy system and crash your audition tomorrow.”
I crinkle my brow. “Who’s your buddy?”
“Phantom.”
I smile at this and lean into his touch all the more. “I’m not leaving, August.”
“You’re not?”
I shake my head. “I prayed that God would make it clear, and He did. Tonight. In more ways than one.”
“Does it have something to do with the Twilight Theater?” he asks in a way that shows just how in-tune he is with the passion that makes my heart beat. So much has transpired over the last six months, and August has been there for all of it.
“That’s one reason, yes, but also...” I exhale slowly, knowing this next statement will lead to a lengthy Pandora’s box conversation. “I’m going to be an auntie soon, and I want to be here for him—for them both.”
This, I can tell, was certainly not an announcement he was expecting. Which means he’s about to be hit with a whole heap of surprises in just a matter of a minutes.
“Jasper’s wife is pregnant?”
“Natalie, yes.” I hesitate, trying to figure out how best to summarize the events of the last several hours. “I was at the police station with her just now and—”
“Wait—you were where ?”
“Believe it or not, the location is the least weird part of this story.” I take another deep breath while his eyes round. “Anyway, turns out my brother has been involved in a sophisticated art fraud crime ring. He was arrested tonight after the undercover FBI agent got the information he needed when Natalie—AKA their inside informant—blew the whistle on his operation during a charity event this evening.” I breathe and start again. “Natalie called and asked me to come to the station after the show tonight, and while we were there my parents showed up.”
At his bewildered expression I simply say, “Yeah, it’s a lot. But I’m okay.” I pause and consider this claim. “Well, I’m as okay as I can be with a brother who’s been charged with multiple felonies, a pregnant sister-in-law in need of support, and two parents who are beyond devastated by my brother’s deception.”
His silence holds a thousand questions.
I stand and pull him up. “Do you mind if we continue this inside? I can make us something warm to drink and we can talk about ... everything we’ve missed.”
“Not everything I’ve missed involves talking.” He pulls me into a hug so warm and protective I’m beginning to reconsider going indoors. “I’m so desperately in love with you, Sophie. And I promise to do my best to make up for all the times I didn’t say it and should have.” He looks down at me with so much longing my toes tingle. “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
He brushes his lips to the corner of my smile. “May I kiss you now?”
“You may indeed.”
And he does so in a way that almost, almost makes up for the three weeks I spent hoping for a moment just like this.
Once we part, August laces his fingers through mine, and together we walk into the house I grew up in. While he fixes us warm drinks, I text Dana and tell her I won’t be reading at the audition in LA tomorrow and promise to call her with an update as soon as I have a spare moment.
Nearly two hours later, I’ve filled August in on everything I know about the investigation and the recent revelations about what happened during the robbery when I was sixteen. In turn, August shares about the precious box in his parents’ closet, his mother’s prayer cards in her Bible, and his own moment of revelation that had me reaching for the tissue box more than once.
I’m still dabbing my eyes as he settles in beside me.
“I wish I could have met them—your parents,” I say.
“They would have adored you.” The muscles in his throat work double time when he speaks again. “No doubt about it.”
August pulls me and the thin afghan I’ve been curled up with onto his lap. “I’d like to meet the rest of your family, too. Whenever you think the timing is right for that.” I nod into his chest, certain I could sleep an entire night right here, just like this. I don’t want August to leave yet.
“Okay, sweetheart.” He sighs raggedly. “It’s time for sleep.”
“No,” I protest weakly, trying and failing to cling to him. “I don’t want you to go yet.”
He chuckles and gently removes himself from my pathetic attempt to keep him close. “Where might I find a linen closet in this mansion?”
I yaw n and curl up on the sofa. “Take a left out those double doors, and it’s the second closet on the right.”
He’s back a moment later, and to my delight, he’s carrying two blankets. He lays the first over me and then stretches out on the sofa parallel to mine and uses the second blanket for himself.
“You’re not going home tonight?” My mind is fuzzy, but not fuzzy enough to forget Gabby. “What about your sister? Won’t she be worried?”
“I texted her, she’s fine.” There’s a smile in his voice. “Any other questions or thoughts that can’t wait until morning?”
“I don’t think so,” I say through a yawn. “Good—”
“I have something,” he cuts in.
I peek one eye open, though all I can see is the outline of his shadow. “What is it?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I’m pretty sure I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
“Sophie? Sophie?” A hushed voice cuts through my subconscious.
I crack one eye open to find my mother’s face looming over me. “Mom?”
She holds a finger to her lips and points at the couch opposite mine. She mouths the words, Who is that?
My blurry gaze lands on August and the chubby cat who has once again made a home on his chest. Not that I can blame him. “My boyfriend.”
Her eyelashes flutter in response. “Oh. Oh my.”
It takes a moment for me to process how weird this entire scenario is, but once the events of last night have a chance to surface in my brain, it seems less so. “Are you okay, Mom? What are you doing here so early?”
I struggle to sit up, and she lifts the blanket off me and then tucks it around my shoulders as if I’m six and not twenty-six. I look around and realize who I don’t see. “Where’s Dad?”
“He didn’t come with me.” Her answer has the punch of a double espresso to my system. “He’s still ... processing what happened. And I simply can’t keep rehashing it.” She pauses and looks at me. “I think I could use some caffeine. How about you?”
I nod and follow her into the kitchen. “Definitely.”
It only takes me a second to realize I’m going to need to be the one to make the coffee. There might have been a day my mother knew where everything was in this kitchen, but that was long ago. Long before the events of last night rocked her entire world.
I touch her arm gently. “I’ll get the coffee. Why don’t you go take a seat.”
“Thank you,” she says.
As I pour the grounds into the coffeemaker, mom sits at the tattered round table tucked into the kitchen nook. It’s surrounded on three sides with bay windows overlooking the smallest vineyard. That table is one of the only original items left in the winery from when Gigi built it. I’ve always been partial to it—scratch marks and all. A part of me is shocked my brother didn’t get rid of it.
As if reading my mind, my mother addresses this very thing as she sits. “I told your brother he could get rid of anything in the estate but this. I have too many memories with my mother at this table to have it tossed due to aesthetic.”
I want to tell her I’m surprised he agreed, as it seems out of character for him, but after so many heavy realities involving my brother, perhaps this table’s presence can be a reminder of God’s light in the darkness.
While the coffee brews, I study my mother’s exhausted profile. She’s wearing a sweatshirt and leggings with minimal makeup and hair that’s been combed and clipped back. A far cry from how high society would know Anita Wilder.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” I ask.
“A power nap sometime around four. But it was fitful at best.”
“I’m sorry.” I set a full coffee mug down in front of her and take the chair beside her. “Do you want me to make you something to eat?”
She places a hand over mine. “I don’t want you to make me anything. I just want to be near you.” The instant she says it, her eyes puddle with tears. “I know there is nothing in the world that can make up for all the mistakes I made when you were still mine to raise ... but I hope you’ll let me try.” Her voice trembles. “I have so many regrets, and if I could, I would go back and do so many things differently.” She sniffs, then pulls a napkin from the crystal holder in the center of the table and balls it in her fist. “I thought a lot about what you said last night, how your brother’s crimes don’t have to be the end of our family’s story. How we still have choices to make.” She takes a slow sip of her coffee, then looks out at the vineyard. “My mother predicted this would happen.”
“That what would happen?” Surely she hadn’t predicted my brother’s criminal activity; he was a pubescent teen when she passed.
“That your father’s greed and lust for success would drive this place, as well as our family, into the ground.” She continues to stare off into the distance. “That if we took God out of the equation, we’d lose more than we’d ever gain.” She turns to me then. “Those were her parting words to your father and me the night before she passed. Little did we know then that she’d taken your dad’s name off the trust and made the stipulations surrounding it nearly impossible for him to ever hold a place of ownership again.”
“Is that why dad hated her so much?”
She lifts a shoulder. “They disagreed on many things—most of them having to do with me.” She rubs her lips together before taking another half sip of coffee. “But his fate was sealed when he told her he would raise his family under the same atheistic mindset he’d been raised under.” Her eyes cloud again, and she blots her cheeks as soon as the tears drop. “I should have pushed back years ago. I had known God as a child. My mother and my stepdad baptized me when I was a teenager during a church picnic. But when I met your father, I was so struck by his confidence and his no-nonsense approach to life and logic that it was difficult to keep my stance of faith. He thought it was nothing more than brainwashing and indoctrination. It’s what started my rebellion. And my mother died praying I would turn back to the faith she had instilled in me as a girl. That was decades ago now.”
Other than in the form of a curse, I’ve never once heard my mother reference God. So the fact that she was baptized as a teenager and then willingly chose to walk away is disorienting.
“You can come back, Mom,” I say with a boldness not my own. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. My pastor says there’s no expiration date when it comes to surrender. Or God’s grace and forgiveness.” I think of August then, of the years he spent too ashamed to be honest with himself, much less with God. And how all that shame and guilt and fear were broken the instant he surrendered.
She stretches out her hand to touch my cheek. “You’ve turned into such a beautiful woman, Sophie.” She purses her lips and looks down into her coffee. “I’ve missed so much of your life.”
I touch her arm. “Maybe we can start to get to know each other again.”
She smiles and tips her head to the doorway. “We could start by you telling me a little about the man sleeping in the front parlor.”
“His name is August Tate. He’s been the producer on the narration projects I’ve been working on over the summer and I ... I love him.” Tears prick my eyes as this unfiltered truth pours out of me. “And I hope I’ll get to spend the rest of my life loving him.”
Mom makes a sound deep in her throat like a hiccup-sob. “Oh, Sophie.” She blots her eyes with the napkin again. “And he’s a good man?”
“He’s a wonderful man,” I confirm.
“Well, then.” She sets her hand on the table. “I should probably go check on Natalie and freshen up before we meet this wonderful man at breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. “I thought we might have a bit of a family discussion.”
Without Dad? is what I nearly voice, but seeing as absolutely nothi ng about the last sixteen hours has been normal, I simply nod and say, “I’ll wake August so he can get going—”
“No,” Mom says with a shake of her head. “He can stay.”
“But—”
“If he’s as important to you as you say he is, then I’d like you to invite him to join us. There’s no use in trying to hide what will soon become national news.” Mom’s voice is stressed when she says this, but I’m surprised at the way she’s still holding up her head. I’m even more surprised by how much taller she stands when she’s not cowering under my father’s big opinions.
When I finally wake August in the parlor, he’s more than a little disoriented. But when I tell him he’s invited to breakfast with my mother and sister-in-law, he’s a step beyond mortified.
“What?” he croaks, scrubbing his face and getting to his feet. “You want me to meet your family now ?”
I try not to laugh—really, I do. But something about a frazzled August on so little sleep is actually quite amusing.
“This is not funny.”
“Okay.” I press my lips together.
He looks himself over. “I have cat hair in places cat hair should never be.”
“Phantom says he’s very sorry.”
August narrows his eyes at me. “So I’m supposed to shake your mother’s hand and talk about my intentions toward her daughter when I haven’t brushed my teeth since yesterday?”
“I probably wouldn’t mention that part.”
“Sophie.” The exasperated way he says my name pushes me over the edge.
“Relax,” I tease. “There’s a guest bathroom on the far side of the staff kitchen, and you’ll find oral care kits in the cabinet on the right.”
His eyes flash with suspicion. “Why?”
“You’d be surprised how many people request them after wine tastings.” I shrug and then make a shooing motion. “You better go. Breakfast will arrive any minute.” And I also need some time to freshen up.
H e nods and begins to exit the room when he stops and turns. “Sophie?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Our breakfast is delivered from the bakery down the road just moments after August rounds the corner and introduces himself to my mom and sister-in-law. Not surprisingly, he’s a hit with the Wilder women. Natalie taps my knee under the table after he pulls out her chair like a true gentleman.
Natalie’s buttering her second croissant when Mom clears her throat. “I apologize, August, that your first impression of this family is happening during such distressing circumstances.”
“No need to apologize, ma’am.” August dips his head. “But if there’s anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“I appreciate that,” my mother says. “I will pass that on to Ronald, as well.” My mother straightens. “Speaking of Ronald, we talked to Agent Trujillo after you girls left the station last night, which led to another lengthy discussion between the two of us on our way back to the condo.”
I share a look of uncertainty with Natalie.
“Given the current state of things, not to mention our growing family”—her focus falls to Natalie’s growing baby bump—“we’ve agreed it would be best to temporarily close the doors of the winery. I plan to call the family attorney later today and inform him of our decision once I find Jasper’s bookkeeping records.”
“ My bookkeeping records,” Natalie respectfully corrects. “Not Jasper’s. I’m the one who’s handled all the finances. I can show you anything you’d like to see, Anita.”
“Thank you, Natty,” Mom says, sounding a bit dumbstruck. “That would be helpful.”
My mom isn’t the only person at this table who didn’t realize Natalie was so involved in the finances. I didn’t have a clue.
“Thankfully,” Natalie continues, “despite Jasper’s terrible spending habits, the stocks Ron invested in years ago, plus the interest we’ve made on the assets owned by the winery itself, should be more than enough to float us long after we provide severance packages to the employees and pay off our current debts.”
Mom’s face reveals she’s more than a little impressed with her daughter-in-law’s insight. “That’s ... good. Yes.”
“You likely didn’t know I graduated top of my class,” Natalie confirms before taking a sip of her water. “It wasn’t something Jasper liked to mention, seeing as he barely passed economics.” She shrugs. “Numbers are kind of my thing.”
I beam at my sister-in-law. “I’m glad math is a skill for at least one of us at this table. It certainly isn’t mine.”
Natalie looks to me and seems to remember something. “As far as Sophie’s trust payout is concerned, I’d like to propose she receive the full amount due to her next week as the van in question is now a key piece of evidence in a federal investigation. Maybe that’s something you can bring up to the attorney?”
“Oh, well, yes. Certainly.” My mom blinks. “But I think before I do that, I should bring up something else to him.”
We all wait patiently for my mother to form her thoughts into words. “I’d like to propose we draft a revision to the board of trustees. We’ll need a new quorum for future decision-making now that ... now that things are different.” She blinks away fresh tears. “Would you consider joining Sophie and me as trustee members, Natalie? We’ll still have to vote, but I have no doubt our attorney will be in agreement.” Her gaze falls on her mother’s cross pendant around my neck. “I’d like for both you girls to have an active voice here. Gigi would want it that way.”
Though it’s impossible to wrap our minds around the future, Natalie thanks my mother in earnest, and I’m grateful when August takes my hand under the table and reminds me that he’ll be with me through it all. Come what may.
Once breakfast is cleaned up, August asks me to walk him out to his car. I know he needs to get home to Gabby, but it’s still difficult to see him go when I’ve only just gotten him back.
At his car, he presses my back against his door and leans in close. “What do you think about a date tomorrow morning?”
Elation sings through me until I remember what day it is. “Tomorrow is Sunday. I don’t want to miss church.” And I was hoping, given August’s revelation last night, he wouldn’t either.
“We won’t. It will be a bit earlier than that.”
I scrunch my eyebrows, and he kisses my nose. “How early?”
“I’ll have to check the tide schedule and get back to you on that.”
“A pre-church surfing date?” I throw my arms around his neck and then shiver involuntarily. “But won’t the water be so cold this time of year?”
“Gabby won’t care about the temperature. She’s a freak when she’s up on her board.”
And just like that, the elation is back. “You’re planning to invite Gabby to surf with us?”
“It’s time.” He nods in earnest. “I think it’s probably time to say yes to a lot of things she’s been asking to do. And before you say it”—he cocks an eyebrow and rolls his eyes good-naturedly—“Yes, I’m already planning to invite Tyler along, too.”
I gasp and bite my bottom lip. “Are you trying to win the Best Brother of the Year Award?”
He cinches me closer. “I’d much rather win the Best Boyfriend of the Year Award. I hear the perks are much better. Although, I’m still waiting to collect on that VIP tour I was promised months ago.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
His wide grin spreads as he leans in just enough to whisper four words against my lips that I’m absolutely positive I’ll never grow tired of hearing: “I love you, Sophie.”