Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Essie woke to see morning light peeking in around the edges of the blinds.
She lifted her head. Liliana slept beside her, one arm flung across the pillow, the even rhythm of her breathing a quiet comfort.
The baby monitor on the nightstand glowed softly, no sound coming from it.
Everyone else must still be down for the count.
The house was dead quiet, but she could hear enough sounds outside to know it wasn’t super early.
She eased out of bed, careful not to disturb Liliana, and padded down the hall.
The house felt different when it was full of family, but she was the only one up.
Like something special was about to happen.
Maybe it was. They’d promised the kids a visit to the pool today and she’d reserved a cabana last night to be sure they had shade.
She started the coffee, knowing Liliana would want some as soon as she woke up. The smell of the grounds and the sound of the scoop moving through them filled her with the contentment of routine. She added water and pressed the button.
The scent of the brewing coffee might be enough to wake Liliana, but so far, there was no movement. Essie got the creamer out while she waited for the machine to finish with its low gurgle.
She poured a mug and carried it toward the front of the house, drawn by the faint light coming through the sheers across the sliding glass doors. That was when Essie saw her.
Sophie sat in one of the chairs on the front porch, knees pulled up, arms wrapped loosely around them.
She wore yesterday’s sweatshirt, hair pulled back without much care, bare feet tucked under her.
She was staring out at the water, eyes seemingly on the horizon, like she was waiting for something to appear. Answers, maybe.
Essie stopped in front of the door.
For a moment, she didn’t move. She didn’t want to startle Sophie. The young woman looked fragile in a way Essie rarely saw. Mostly because Sophie never let that part of her come through. She seemed stripped of her sharp edges and guarded posture.
Just a young woman sitting alone with her thoughts, the waves holding her gaze.
Essie took a breath, slid one of the doors back, and stepped onto the porch quietly, but the shush of the door on its track gave her away.
“Morning,” she whispered, trying to preserve the calm.
Sophie glanced over, eyes tired but alert. “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t trying to sneak around or anything.”
“You’re not sneaking around,” Essie said gently. “You’re allowed to be here, or wherever you want to be in the house.”
Sophie nodded, then turned back to the water.
Essie took a nearby chair, careful to leave space between them. She didn’t mention there was coffee. Sophie could see that for herself. And Essie didn’t ask questions, even though she wanted to. She’d learned that sometimes the best thing she could do was simply be present.
“The house is quiet,” Sophie said after a minute. It wasn’t an observation so much as a statement of fact. Was she trying to make conversation?
“It is,” Essie said. “But it won’t be for long.”
Sophie exhaled out a short breath that sounded light enough to have almost been a laugh. “No. Kids don’t do quiet, do they?”
Essie sipped her coffee and said a prayer that if this was an opening, she’d know how to use it properly.
They sat in stillness for a while, the sky slowly shifting from pale blue to a more brilliant color that announced it would be another beautiful day. Essie let the silence stretch, resisting the urge to fill it with reassurance or plans or suggestions.
Sophie wouldn’t want any of that from her.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Sophie said finally.
“I hate when that happens,” Essie said.
Another pause.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” Sophie said.
“Don’t think that,” Essie said. “I don’t.”
The pause was shorter this time.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Sophie said, her gaze straight ahead. Her voice was flat, but the words carried weight and pain. “I keep thinking if I sit still long enough, something will make sense.”
Essie looked out at the water with her. “Sometimes it does,” she said. “Sometimes it doesn’t. Sitting still is good, though. It can’t hurt having time like that to think.”
Sophie nodded, pulling her knees closer. She didn’t look at Essie, but she didn’t get up and leave either.
Essie didn’t want to lose this momentum, because that was what it felt like. She shifted slightly in her chair. “Do you want some coffee?” she asked. She kept her voice relaxed, like it was the most ordinary question in the world.
Sophie hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. That would be good. Thanks.”
“I’ll be right back,” Essie said.
She went inside and moved quietly, mindful of the sleeping house. She poured the coffee into a mug, added cream and sugar the way she thought Sophie would like it. Essie paused with the spoon in her hand, considering, then added a little more cream.
She’d seen the sort of coffee drinks Sophie liked to share on her videos. They were always fancy. To Essie, that meant light and sweet.
When she stepped back onto the porch, coffee in hand, the sky had brightened another shade.
And Sophie was crying.
She sat there with her head bowed, shoulders hunched, tears slipping down her face as she stared at her hands. She made a quick, embarrassed motion to wipe them away when she noticed Essie.
Essie didn’t comment on it. She crossed the porch and set the mug down within Sophie’s reach, then went back to her chair.
Sophie sniffed and her voice caught when she spoke. “I don’t even know why I’m crying.”
“That’s all right,” Essie said. “You don’t have to have a reason. Sometimes it’s a way of getting something out.”
Sophie gave a small, disbelieving shake of her head, then picked up the mug. Her hands trembled slightly. She took a careful sip, eyes still down.
They sat in silence again, the sound of the waves filling the emptiness. Sophie’s crying eased, though tears slipped free now and then. Essie stayed where she was, almost afraid to move.
After a while, Sophie said quietly, “I don’t know how to fix any of this.”
Essie looked out at the water. “You don’t have to fix everything at once,” she said. “And you don’t have to do it all by yourself.”
Sophie nodded, gripping the mug like it was the only thing keeping her in her chair.
Essie took another sip of her cooling coffee and set the mug down.
“I want you to know something,” she said.
She kept her eyes on the water so it wouldn’t feel like pressure, but even speaking the words made her a little nervous.
But she couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “I’m not your enemy, Sophie. I never have been.”
Sophie’s mouth tightened, then softened. She nodded once, a small, almost automatic motion, like she already understood that.
“I know,” she said quietly. “I think I’ve always known that. It just… Nothing makes this any easier.”
“I know it’s hard,” Essie said. “And I know you still miss your mother.”
“Yeah.” The word was so quiet, Essie almost hadn’t caught it. Another little nod and Sophie shut down again, focused on her coffee.
After a bit, Essie took another chance. “Liliana and I and the kids are going to the pool later. Nothing fancy. Just floating around, letting Mattie wear himself out. I reserved a cabana.” She paused. “You’re welcome to come with us, if you want.”
Sophie’s first reaction was immediate. “I don’t think so.”
Essie nodded, accepting it without comment. That was exactly the answer she’d been expecting, but at least she’d tried.
Sophie stared out at the water again, holding her cup but not drinking. “Maybe,” she said, not looking at Essie. “Maybe I could stop by. For a little while.”
Essie felt hope in her chest, but she didn’t let it show. “That would be nice,” she said. “No expectations. You can come whenever you want, but we’ll probably do lunch there. You’re welcome to stay for that, too.”
Sophie nodded again, a bit more firmly this time. “Okay.”
The sun crested higher, warming the porch. Inside, Essie could hear faint sounds. Someone was up. Probably Liliana. The quiet was gone, but that was all right.
For the first time since Sophie had arrived, Essie allowed herself to think that this might be a start toward something good.
And she couldn’t help but believe that Sophie needed something good more than anything in the world.