Chapter 2
TWO
SOPHIE
A little more than one week earlier…
I came to Target to pick up a few last-minute decorations for my best friend’s bachelorette party.
But, of course, like most people who set foot through the doors, I’ve found myself standing in a completely different part of the store.
With my cart already full of Valentine’s Day candy and treats—one of the perks of Winter having her wedding on V-Day—I’m parked in the middle of the baby aisle.
It’s not my first time here. I’ve been countless times before to buy presents for my friends every time they were expecting. But this is the first time I’m here for myself.
Okay, maybe it’s a bit too premature for me to actually be here shopping for myself. After all, it’s not like I’m pregnant.
But I will be soon.
I trace a finger over a teeny, tiny pair of white shoes. The expected excitement ripples through me.
I’m going to have a baby.
I made the decision a few months ago. The night Winter announced that she and Slate were getting married.
I’d spent the evening toasting her with our closest friends.
All the time I tried to ignore the way their wedding and engagement rings glittered in the lights every time they raised their glasses.
I tried, but I couldn’t completely. Not once the realization dawned inside of me. I’m the last one. I’m the only one of my friends who isn’t married. It’s not even just that I’m not married. I’m nowhere close to it.
Though, not for a lack of trying.
The only thing that kept me from spiraling into complete self-pity was how happy Winter looked. While I may have been hyper-aware of my singleness—and, a little bit jealous—not for one second did I want to dampen any of her joy.
It wasn’t until I was lying in my bed later that night, staring at the ceiling, that I really took the time to think about my situation. To have a State of Sophie, if you will.
Like all of my friends, I spent my twenties and part of my thirties enjoying the dating scene.
Okay, enjoying might be a strong word. At least for me.
I’ve always found dating to be more like going to a bunch of job interviews.
Only, there’s alcohol and sometimes meals I can barely get myself to eat because my stomach is churned into too many knots.
As I lay there, I tried to count how many first and second, and third dates I’d been on. Then, I compared it to how many serious relationships I’ve had in my life. That number was a lot easier to come up with.
Zero.
Then I thought about how many times I’ve been in love.
Once.
And then I thought about how many times someone has been in love with me in return.
Zero.
By the time I was done doing all of my math, I was forced to ask myself the big question. What do I most want from my life?
I spun the question around and around, considering it from different viewpoints. Of course, it raised many more questions. Each of them was necessary to resolve before I could come up with an answer for the big one.
Do I need to get married to be happy? No. Not when getting to the point of having a husband means going on more and more first and second and third dates that don’t end with any real spark or feeling.
Especially when it’s been a long, long time since I even tried to go on a date.
Will I be happy with a life that’s just me, my work, and my cat, Dottie? That was a bit harder to answer. I mean, I love my job as a copywriter. I get to work from home and it gives me a mixture of structure and creativity. As for Dottie, I adore her.
But… and this was the big question… would I really be happy if I didn’t at least try to have a family? One with human children and not only fur babies?
No. I wouldn’t. I’ve wanted to have a family my whole life. And if I didn’t at least give it a try, I know I would always regret it.
The next morning, I started the first of many Google searches, beginning with “how to have a baby when you’re single?” Within forty-eight hours, I had an appointment scheduled with my primary care physician.
As of a few weeks ago, I started a round of fertility medications and prenatal vitamins to help get my body in the best possible condition to have a baby.
And, most importantly, I’ve ordered the specimen. That’s an awfully fancy word for something most of the guys I’ve been with have been pretty cavalier about expelling from their bodies.
But, I’m pretty happy about the one I chose. According to the profile on the database, he’s an engineering student at a local college. His medical history is about as good as anyone can hope to find.
Like me, he has brown hair, but instead of having green eyes, he has brown. He’s on the taller side, which I hope will be an advantage to my future child. I’m on the shorter side, and maybe with those genes, they’ll land somewhere in the middle.
With all of that in order, all that’s left is for me to go in to be inseminated late next week. I wanted to wait until after Winter’s wedding. She’s been such a good friend to me through the years, practically treating me like the sister I never had.
I didn’t want to risk having morning sickness if everything went well or being down in the dumps if the first round doesn’t take.
On impulse, I drop the shoes in the cart.
They’ll work for a boy or a girl. Maybe I’m getting a little ahead of myself, or maybe I’m manifesting what I hope will happen.
Besides, a pair of shoes is hardly the same as buying a bassinet or painting the walls of my second bedroom a gender-neutral yellow.
I’m turning my attention to a display of bibs when my phone starts buzzing. Sheepishly turning away from more baby supplies, I fish my phone out of my pocket and smile at Winter’s name on the display.
“Hey there, beautiful bride. Only two more days to go.”
The groan Winter lets out on the other end of the line has me wincing.
“Uh oh.” I clench my teeth. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is a disaster.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me, but make a few sympathetic noises. “What’s going on?”
She takes a deep, audible breath. “The caterer says they’re out of salmon—I know.
How do you run out of salmon when you’re based in Seattle?
My dress needed one more alteration, and I had to rush it back last night.
The lodge just called to say they had a huge snowfall last night, and the roads won’t be passable until after check-in.
Maria keeps texting to ask if the lodge has AA batteries in their gift shop.
It’s something to do with the gift bags she’s put together for the bachelorette party tonight.
I broke one of my nails, but I’m not sure if I can get into the salon in time to fix it before driving up.
“And…” She sighs heavily. “On top of all that, my brother’s flight is landing in an hour, and I’m still sitting in line to pick up my dress.”
“Your brother?” I perk up unintentionally. “He decided to come?”
“I know! After taking forever to even acknowledge whether or not his invitation had found its way to the Middle-of-Nowhere, Alaska, he sure took his sweet time telling me if he’d actually be here.”
I chew the inside of my cheek. “I’m at the store right now. I can pick up batteries for Maria’s swag bags.”
“Oh my God, you’re the best. Thank you. That’s one thing off my list.”
“It’s no problem.” I trace my fingers over the little shoes that are now sitting in my cart. “I could also pick your brother up from the airport.”
She gasps so loudly—and in an octave well above her usual range—I have to pull the phone away from my ear for a second.
“Sophie, seriously. You are the best.” She releases another sigh, but this one is relieved.
“It’s my pleasure.” I smile at the shoes. “Now, just pick up your dress and get yourself to the nail salon. Everything else will work out. And, if you think of any other last-minute errands, text them to me. I can take care of them before I head up to the lodge.”
“What would I do without you?”
“Probably breathe into a lot more paper bags.”
She’s laughing and in a much better mood when we end the call.
By the time I’ve picked up the batteries, as well as a few other odds and ends that couldn’t hurt to have for the long weekend ahead, and checked out, Winter has already sent me two more requests.
My phone is still buzzing with new notifications when I pull up to the arrivals terminal at SeaTac.
I tap my fingers on the steering wheel, pretending not to notice how jittery I’ve become.
It has nothing to do with the long to-do list I’ve just acquired and everything to do with the man who is about to sit in my passenger seat.
Cliff Madden. I haven’t seen him in almost five years. That was when he surprised everyone and announced that he was quitting his high-level job at an investment firm and moving to Alaska. Winter—and all of us—were stunned.
This move came about a year after their dad had died. Cliff had said it made him realize that life was too short. While that explanation made sense to most of us, Winter always suspected there was something else.
My belly does a tiny flip. Five years. I wonder if he’s changed much in that time. I bet he’s still every bit as handsome as he was back then.
But, hopefully, in that time I’ve matured enough to be in better control of my emotions. I’m about to become a mother, for crying out loud. I can’t let myself get all flustered by a guy who barely gave me a second glance.
Even though I desperately wanted him to look my way. To see me the way I’ve always seen him.
I chew on the inside of my cheek and look at the sliding doors as a steady stream of people flows out. I search the crowd for him, and it isn’t long until he appears.
Though his face is now covered with a thick beard, there’s no mistaking Cliff. He’s nearly a head taller than almost everyone else.
Even from this distance, I can sense his dark, brooding gaze searching the line of cars. That’s when it occurs to me. He probably has no idea what my car looks like—or that I might be the one here to pick him up.
I open the door and start to step out. The seat belt tightens, pulling me back against the seat.
My cheeks flush red, and I take a quick breath to collect myself. I unclasp the buckle and try again. I step out of the car and wave in Cliff’s direction.
The second his stare lands on me, the heat of it immediately settles in my belly.
Well, shoot. So much for him no longer having any effect on me.
He raises a hand in response and moves through the crowd in my direction. More to keep myself busy than anything else, I open the trunk of my car.
“Hey.” I cringe inwardly. That word came out way too breathy. “Welcome back to Seattle.”
“Thanks.” He’s now standing a foot away from me. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck prickle, and I can’t help but notice his musky scent. “I didn’t know you were on chauffeur duty.”
“Yeah, well.” In very real danger of doing something stupid like throwing my arms around him or dissolving into giggles, I motion for him to put his suitcase in the trunk. “Your sister had a few last-minute things come up.”
He gives a grunt in response.
“She did!” I start rambling off the list, for some reason feeling the need to defend my friend and prove that he’s a very welcome guest for the wedding.
He doesn’t reply to anything I say, but steps closer to put his small suitcase and a garment bag in the trunk. I’m so distracted by my long list, I don’t move out of his way soon enough.
My arm brushes up against his, sending a delicious ripple of desire through me. Pulling back, as if I’ve been burned, I turn to make my apologies.
The words disappear from my lips as I turn to find his dark steady gaze focused on me. I could be imagining things, but I swear there’s a little twinkle in his eyes.
A ping of pleasure bursts in the pit of my belly.
I swear, I think I just became pregnant.