“Hey Sophie.” Colt strolled over, took the stool from her hands, and set it on its feet. “What’s up?” He leaned over and picked up the next fallen soldier.
“Oh, you know, nothing much.” I’m sleeping with your best friend. She grabbed her bags. “I was just heading upstairs to—”
“Don’t rush off.” He righted the last stool. “Stay and keep us company.”
“I don’t want to intrude…” She looked past Colt to Kady, who smiled wide and patted the seat next to her.
“Come on.” Colt took her shopping bags and led her over to to Kady. “Day after tomorrow we’ll fly off to Hawaii, you’ll fly back to California, and I won’t get to see my little sister again until Thanksgiving.”
“Good point. You’re sure you don’t mind?” she asked Kady.
“Mind? Are you joking? I’m dying to talk to you. I’m bursting with curiosity.” Kady rubbed her palms together. “Sit your butt down and tell me where you were this morning.”
She nearly toppled her barstool for the second time in five minutes. “This morning?”
“Yes, this morning. I knocked on your door to see if you wanted to join us for breakfast with my parents, but you didn’t answer. I have to assume you hadn’t made it back to your room from whatever shenanigans you got up to last night—after you escorted Bridezilla to her room so she could have her nervous breakdown in private. And thank you for that, by the way.”
“You’re welcome, but you’re not Bridezilla. Have Tyler and Christine kissed and made up?”
“They will,” Kady replied confidently. “I’m not worried anymore. Nice try with the deflection, but you didn’t answer my original question. Are you being evasive, Sophie?”
“No.” Stop fidgeting. Play it cool. And for God’s sake, don’t blush. But even as she coached herself, she felt heat sting her cheeks. “I must have been at the gym.”
Kady stared pointedly at Sophie’s workout clothes. “You’re working out twice a day now?”
“Um…I did a circuit of weights this morning. Just now I went for a walk and sneaked in some cardio.” Was it hot in here? It felt like she was sweating buckets.
“Hard-core. I love it. It’s totally paying off, too, because you looked amazing last night in your red dress.” She winked and nudged Sophie with her shoulder. “I thought maybe you’d gotten lucky.”
Colt choked on his beer. “What?”
“Nope. Not me. No luck here.” The words came out way too fast, and way too loud, and although she told herself not to look, her eyes darted guiltily to Colt. She was a lousy liar. Desperate for a distraction, she blurted, “Well, that’s not entirely true. I had some luck…at work.” No, came out wrong. “I got a promotion.”
“Oh my God, honey, that’s awesome,” Kady cried.
“Congratulations,” Colt added. “I’m proud of you, Soph.”
“It’s just to lead web designer, but I get a raise and more responsibility. Direct interaction with clients.”
“You’ll do amazing,” Kady assured her, “because you are amazing. You’ve really come into your own in the last few months. You’re more outgoing and confident, and…I don’t know…you’ve bloomed. Your mom and dad aren’t going to recognize you when they see you at dinner tonight.”
She felt her smile slip a bit. She hadn’t seen her mom since Christmas, and yes, she’d undergone a few internal and external transformations since then, but the thought of receiving her mother’s assessment of those changes set off a small earthquake of nerves in her stomach. “I’m sure Mom will find something to fix.”
Colt laughed. “Don’t take it to heart. Constant criticism is part of her charm. If I had a dollar for every time she told me to stand up straight, or comb my hair, or change clothes because I looked like I got dressed in the dark, I’d have been a millionaire before I graduated from high school.”
“I know.” Sophie sighed and traced a dark grain in the wood of the bar with her finger. “She always wants us to show the world our best, but sometimes her comments are hard to take.”
Her brother wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her. “Tell you what. You handle Dad, and I’ll keep Mom off your back.”
Tempting as the offer sounded, she shook her head. “No. This is your wedding. The least I can do is be the buffer, and let you and Kady relax and enjoy yourselves.”
Kady wrapped her arm around Sophie too, and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Have I mentioned you’re the best sister-in-law ever?”
“Yeah, yeah. Pick out a nice souvenir for me in Hawaii.” The bartender headed over just then with a smile and a menu. A three-note tone sounded from Colt’s pocket. He pulled out his phone, glanced at the screen, and announced, “Speaking of Mom, she’s arrived, and she wants lunch.” He tapped out a text message. “We’ve already eaten, but I’ll tell her to come down and join you.”
Sophie contemplated ordering a large, stiff drink, but Colt closed out his tab and they moved to a table. A minute later her mother swept into the bar, looking slim and effortlessly beautiful, as always. She’d styled her dark hair in a sophisticated twist, and wore a shoulder-baring black-and-white striped top over slim-fitting white pants. A large black designer handbag and matching heels completed the ensemble. Not every fifty-five-year-old woman could pull off the outfit, but their mom could.
“Darlings,” she called when she spotted them, and glided over to the table. Colt stood as she approached. “Glad you made it, Mom,” he said, and they embraced. She kissed his cheek. “I wouldn’t miss your big day.” When she drew back, her perfectly groomed brows knitted. “Honey, you’re going to get your hair trimmed before the wedding, right?”
Colt, to his credit, didn’t allow a ripple of annoyance to disrupt his relaxed expression. “Yes, Mother.”
She patted his cheek. “Good.” Then she turned to exchange cheek kisses with her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. “You look beautiful, as always, Susan,” Kady said.
“You’re too kind, sweetheart.” She eyed Kady’s dark-blue tank dress and canvas sandals. “I wish I was still at the age where I could throw on any old thing and not worry about how I looked, but alas, those days are gone.”
Kady gave her a thanks…I think smile and linked arms with Colt. “We need to go meet with the wedding planner. See you both at the rehearsal?”
“Of course,” her mom said. Sophie nodded, and refrained from adding, If I don’t drink myself into a coma at lunch.
Then they were making their escape, and her mom turned to her, smiled, and hugged her. “Sophie.”
“Hi, Mom.”
Her baggy, long-sleeved T-shirt hid most of her weight loss, but as soon as her mother wrapped her arms around her, she noticed the difference. She straightened and narrowed her eyes at her daughter. “My Lord, look at you! You’ve finally outgrown your baby fat.”
She tried to take a lesson from Colt and Kady and let her mother’s condescending comment roll off, but failed. She refused to go the old Sophie route and not stick up for herself. Instead she sat, pulled her chair to the table, and said, “I didn’t ‘outgrow’ anything, Mom. I decided to lose some weight, so I changed my lifestyle and eating habits in order to accomplish the goal.”
“Well.” Her mom settled herself in the chair on the opposite side of the table and in a move Sophie recognized as force of habit, discreetly scoped the room to collect any admiring glances. “Congratulations, honey. Whatever you did worked.” She turned back to Sophie. “I wish you wouldn’t hide all your progress under”—she wrinkled her nose and gestured to Sophie’s outfit—“sloppy, shapeless clothes. You know a shirt like that, with your chest, just makes you look like a tent.” With that, she opened her menu.
Dismissed. Sophie picked up her menu and nearly gave voice to the “yes, Mother” hovering on the tip of her tongue, but new Sophie issued a firm no. She put the menu down. “This shirt is comfortable, and I went for some exercise before I came here. I wasn’t actually planning on competing in the
Miss America pageant this afternoon.”
Her mom looked up from the menu, brows high. “Of course not, sweetheart. I’m just saying—”
“Mom, I know what you’re saying, because you’ve been saying it for years. Trust me, you’re relentless on the topic of what’s wrong with me. It used to hurt my feelings. Now it just annoys me. Stop picking me apart.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t pick you apart.”
“Come on. I’ve never measured up to your standards. What I’m suddenly realizing is I never will, because they’re impossible. Even if I were a supermodel, you’d still find fault. You’re not happy unless you’re criticizing.”
“That’s ridiculous, Sophie.” Her mother sounded genuinely shocked by the accusation. “I do not constantly criticize you.”