24. Alex
CHAPTER 24
Alex
“ W hy am I so nervous?” Sophie said, shaking out her arms like she was warming up for a dance competition. “Feel my forehead, Alex. I’m burning up from nerves.” She reached for my hand and pushed my palm against her forehead—it wasn’t any warmer than usual.
“You’re fine,” I said, hoping the smile on my face was enough to reassure her. But it seemed to have zero effect. Sophie was undoubtedly nervous about meeting Sam. It was pretty cute and rather funny, and I would’ve said so if Sophie didn’t look like she was about to hyperventilate.
“I’m practically a furnace, Alex.” She grabbed a prenatal care pamphlet off the kitchen counter and began to fan herself. “What if I mess up the dinner? What if the chicken tastes terrible, and he thinks I can’t look after you? What if Sam doesn’t like me?”
I barely had time to get a word out, tell her to calm down, when Sophie’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Sam didn’t like Vicki, he could just as easily not like me either . . .
That’s a deal breaker, Alex. Your friends are supposed to like me.”
I laughed but then caught myself when Sophie sent a glower my way.
“It’s not funny,” she grumbled.
“I know,” I said, thinking of ways to put an end to her suffering. The only thing that came to mind was a little TLC. I smoothed my palms down her arms and twined our fingers together.
“Sam’s going to love you. He already does, since I talk about you all the time.”
“You don’t know that.” Sophie sulked, leaning into me. “He might think I’m a slut because I slept with you at the seminar. He might think I intentionally slept with you. Have you ever heard of a doctor groupie?”
I shook my head.
“Well,” she said, stepping back toward the dining room table, which she had set up more than two hours ago, and scrutinizing the setting like she was a perfectionist on a mission. Though it wasn’t necessary. Everything from the new silverware to the crystal glasses to the napkins folded with origami-level strictness was in its perfect place. “There are women who literally only date doctors because they are doctors,” she said, rounding the table.
“Well, you’re not one of them.”
“I know that.” Sophie straightened a knife that didn’t need to be straightened. “But Sam might not—”
The doorbell sliced through the air. Sophie's gaze flicked up in its direction. I could see her muscles tighten, her entire body jumping into what could only be fight-or-flight mode.
Hopefully, neither of those responses was necessary.
“Sam and Maya will love you, because you’re easy to love,” I said, backtracking toward the door. “Because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and Sam knows that. You’re not like Vicki, Soph. You won’t ever be. There’s absolutely no need to worry.”
“If you say so,” Sophie said, still looking far too miserable. She ran her fingers through her blonde waves, pushed back her shoulders, and followed me to the entrance hall.
Just before I opened the door, Sophie stood up on her toes and whispered in my ear, “I also love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”
“Good,” I said, smiling as I turned to her. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” I drew Sophie into my arms and kissed her like no one was watching—at least the glass panel in the door was frosted. When the bell rang again, I squeezed her tighter to me, not ready to let go just yet. “Just promise me you’ll enjoy tonight.”
“I promise—”
“We can see the two of you,” Sam said, his thick voice audible through the door. “Save the canoodling for later. I’m starving.”
“You’re being rude, Sam,” said Maya, her familiar voice slipping beneath the door.
“He’s always rude,” I said loudly, letting Sophie go and moving to let them in.
“It seems my husband has left his manners behind,” Maya said, walking in.
She gave Sam a side-eye, then kissed me on the cheek before moving toward Sophie and embracing her warmly. Maya, with her dark curls and golden eyes, was the kind of woman who could light up a room but also keep everyone on their toes—especially Sam. Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes when he thought Maya wasn’t looking–though she was always looking. When her sharp glare caught him, he quickly flashed her an I’m-just-joking smile and held up a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon in my direction. “A little housewarming gift.”
“Your house is beautiful by the way,” Maya said, gazing about the foyer. “That painting is gorgeous. Who’s the artist?” She pointed to the landscape painting Sophie had hung above the console table just that morning.
“Um . . . ” Sophie said. “I actually have no idea. I found it in the thrift store in town.
Don’t think I spent more than twenty bucks on it.”
Maya laughed, her eyes bright, her fingers reaching up to touch the canvas. “I’ve never thought about buying art from thrift stores. Next time you go, will you let me know? I’d love to come with you.”
"That sounds great," Sophie said, catching my eye. I knew what she was thinking: everything was going perfectly smoothly thus far.
“What’s for supper?” Sam asked, clapping his hands together. He then sniffed, tilting his chin up like a bloodhound. “I smell Parmigiano. Am I right?” He glanced at Sophie with that big toothy grin of his. “Because if I am, you’ve scored at least five brownie points. Another two if there’s some protein with that.”
Sophie beamed. “Chicken Parmigiano.”
“No one cares about your brownie points, Sam,” said Maya, clapping her husband on the back. “But that does sound delicious, Sophie. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Nothing at all.” Sophie grinned, taking the lead to the kitchen.
“Who’s looking after the kids?” I asked, following the three of them. The best part of the house was the open-plan situation. You could stand in the kitchen and still have a conversation with a person sitting at the dining table. A perfect house for entertaining guests. A perfect house for a family.
“My mom,” Sam said, uncorking the bottle of wine. Sophie had placed three wine glasses down on the marble counter, and I was getting her a non-alcoholic spritzer. “She was more than happy to look after them for the evening.”
"His mother is a saint," said Maya. "She's got this way of soothing Anderson's mid-tantrum that's unbelievable. I keep telling her to write a baby book, but she just brushes me off.
One day, I’ll force her to put pen to paper.”
“I don’t think you can force my mom to do anything,” said Sam. “Especially when it comes to sharing her secrets.”
“True,” Maya replied with a laugh. “But maybe if we band together, Sam, we can at least get her to spill a few things. I’m desperate to know what her secret ingredient is for her famous banana bread.”
“She’s taking that to the grave, Maya, you have to let it go—”
Sophie’s phone rang. I glanced down at where it was lying on the kitchen countertop.
“It’s your brother.”
“Can you take it, please, Alex?” Sophie asked, looking far too preoccupied roasting the almonds for the salad to be taking the call. “He said he wanted to ask us something about the baby shower.”
“Will do.”
“And if it’s something crazy, shut it down immediately,” she added. “He needs to speak to Becks before he makes any decisions.”
“Got it,” I replied, pressing the phone to my ear.
Danny’s voice rang across the speaker. “I think I might’ve found the woman of my dreams, Soph, and I’m not just saying that. I mean it. She’s—”
“What’s her name?” I interrupted, fully aware that whatever he had just said was solely meant for Sophie’s ears. Still, Danny and I had become close enough over the last few months that I could rib him without hesitation and he could take it with good humor—and vice versa.
“She sounds very special.”
“Oh shit. Alex,” he laughed. “I thought you were Sophie. Where is she? Where’s my sister?”
“She’s a little preoccupied trying not to burn the almonds.”
“Oh.”
“Tell me about this woman of your dreams.” I joked, expected Danny to end the call, but he didn’t, which I regarded as just another step closer to being family.
“I can’t tell you, Al, don’t want to jinx it . . . Anyway, the reason I’m calling is to find out if there’s anything in particular Sophie wants for the baby shower. I’m doing some recon with Becks—”
“If it's anything outrageous, speak to Becks. Sophie’s very adamant that you ask Becks first.”
Danny grumbled, “I can plan my sister’s baby shower how I want to, but fine, I’ll speak to Becks,” and hung up.
“Everything alright?” Sophie asked. She probably had one ear on my conversation and the other on what was happening in the kitchen.
“Danny thinks he’s in love,” I said, giving her that look that meant trouble. “Which, given what I’ve learned about him so far, could be terrifying.”
“Who’s Danny?” Sam asked, sitting down.
Maya carried the Parmigiano dish to the table, placed it on the trivets, and sat down beside her husband. Sophie followed with the salad and took her seat at the same time I did. Her hand automatically went for my thigh, and I interlaced our fingers.“Sophie’s brother,” I replied. “We suspect he might be in a secret relationship with Vicki—”
“But we also hope it’s not true,” Sophie said quickly, her eyes pleading that the real truth wasn’t as horrifying as the thought of Danny and Vicki in a relationship.
After everything Vicki had put Sophie through, all the unnecessary reprimanding, the unfair rebukes, the undeserving hatred, it was perfectly normal for me to still harbor some anger toward her. What she had done was wrong, rude, even bordering on unforgivable—though Sophie, the forgiving person that she was, had already put it all behind her.
I loved that about her, her remarkable ability to move on. She made me a better person. The few times I bumped into Vicki at the grocery store or saw her at the gas station, I’d been civil. I had to be, since things like that were bound to happen when we lived in the same town.
But I would much rather we didn’t have to make small talk at Thanksgiving, or ever.
Sam dropped his fork and leaned back in his chair, his lips quirking into one massive grin. “Vicki. Do you mean Victoria Lang? Your ex-fiancée?”
“Hush,” said Maya, patting her husband’s arm. “Today’s not the day, Sam.”
He glanced in her direction, fluttered his eyebrows like he couldn’t disagree more, and sat forward with his elbows on the table. “Today’s exactly that day.”
Beside me, Sophie's ears seemed to perk up, her shoulders straightening as she leaned forward. I understood her intrigue. Vicki was my ex and her boss. It would be strange if she didn’t want to know a little more about our failed relationship. Even though we had talked about it on a few occasions, I knew she wouldn’t mind hearing about it from a third party, someone on the outside who had watched in.
“Why don’t you like her?” Sophie asked, getting straight to the point.
“How about we don’t talk about Vicki tonight?” Maya offered, looking a little nervous. She wasn’t a fan of Vicki either, though she had never shown it. Not like Sam. “Sophie, why don’t you tell us if there’s anything else you need for the nursery? We’ve got so many things we aren’t using anymore.”
“ Or ,” said her husband, “we can talk about Vicki for a minute and air out all the dirty laundry.”
Maya didn’t look happy at all. Sophie, on the other hand, looked desperate to hear what Sam had to say, and I . . . well, I knew it would come to this sooner or later. And it wasn’t like the laundry was that dirty.
Sam finished off his wine and looked Sophie dead in the eye. "I've known Alex since our residency. Way before Vicki came along. And if anyone knows Alex, they know that he is good, that he cares—not just superficially, but deeply. He can come across as rude and arrogant, what do you expect from someone with such a handsome face? But he's always ready to admit when he's wrong, to put things right."
“You flatter me, Sam,” I teased, hating how my cheeks were beginning to burn from all the attention. Who knew being put on the spot by close friends could feel this embarrassing?
He gave me a hard nod and turned his attention back to Sophie. “Alex is the kind of man who stands by his principles, and what you see is what you get.”
“I agree,” Sophie said, finding my fingers again and giving them a tender squeeze.
“And Vicki, well, she was a firecracker from the beginning.”
“She was just a little too . . . ” Maya seemed to be struggling to find the right words.
But she didn’t need to. Sam effortlessly filled in the gap. “Vicki was born thinking that she’s always right. Always . No matter what she does, or says, or how she acts, it’s as if she believes the universe and all its occupants will bend to her will. Including Alex, who could never truly get what he wanted, because it wasn’t what she wanted.”
“So, basically,” Sophie started, “she’s what I’ve thought of her all along: a female version of my brother.”
Maya, whose golden eyes were wide and seemingly worried that her husband was overstepping—though I was used to Sam doing exactly that—, seemed to relax, her shoulders visibly softening.
“Yeah?” Sam asked. “Well then, if your brother is dating her, they’re going to kill each other.”
Everyone around the table laughed, and then, unexpectedly, Sophie let out a hiccup-like sound that drew everyone’s attention to her. She glanced down at her belly, a surprised grin on her lovely face. “The babies just kicked, and not those little wiggles they usually do, but proper little kicks.”