18. Abby

18

ABBY

T he morning after the most incredible date she’d ever been on, Abby slept later than usual, grateful for the weekend. Still sleepy, she lay for a moment in the warm bed, thinking about the evening she’d spent with Luke. Nothing could be better than the evening they’d spent together. It had truly felt magical.

Luke Hayes was magic.

Rufus, who had been asleep on the end of her bed, raised his head and wagged his tail. He’d been on Jack’s bed when she’d gotten home last night, so he must have come in with her at some point.

“Hey there,” Abby said. “Did you hold down the fort last night?”

Rufus wagged his tail harder.

On the way home from their epic date, Luke had suggested they take all the kids into the tree lighting in town that evening and out to dinner afterward. They’d discussed the children at great length on the drive home and had decided they would not try to hide their relationship from any of the three. That said, they’d agreed to practice restraint. The priority now and forever was the kids.

Regardless, Abby had accepted one thing. She had fallen head over heels for Luke Hayes.

From what she could gather, he felt the same way about her.

Who would have ever thought something so wonderful could happen to her? She’d figured romantic love was for other people, not her. Yet here she was, her stomach full of butterflies and a permanent smile on her face.

Abby slipped into her bathrobe before she and Rufus hurried downstairs. She started a pot of coffee and turned up the heater to warm up the house. As much as she loved sleeping in a cold room, she wanted it warm in the mornings. She glanced at the clock on the coffee maker. It was nearing eight, but neither child was up yet. Not unusual for Jack, who had to be cajoled out of bed in the morning, but Sophie was a morning person, often awake before Abby’s alarm went off at seven.

She poured Rufus some kibble and herself a cup of coffee, drinking it while peering out the kitchen window. The sun sat low on the horizon, casting a pale, diffused light that struggled to penetrate the thick cloud cover. Even the snowy landscape appeared as a dim blue. A peaceful morning, if not a bit somber.

It wouldn’t matter for this evening. The darkness would make the lights of the Christmas tree in town appear even brighter.

She finished her cup of coffee and then went upstairs to check on the kids. She figured they should sleep as late as they wanted on their holiday break, but she wanted to make sure they were all right. The house was too quiet without their jabbering and giggles.

Jack was still asleep, clutching his teddy against his chest. She stayed in the doorway for a moment or two, watching him sleep. He looked like an angel, with his hair sticking every which way and his thick lashes splayed against his pink cheeks.

She left the door open a few inches so that he wouldn’t be scared when he woke. For some reason, the idea of a fully shut door made him anxious. Sophie, on the other hand, liked her door shut. Abby opened it carefully, in case Sophie was asleep.

The bed was empty. Was she in the bathroom? Abby hurried across the hall, but there was no one there. Had she gone downstairs to read on the couch in the living room?

Assuming this was the case, Abby went back downstairs to search. Alarmingly, after a perusal of every room in the house, she couldn’t find Sophie anywhere. Starting to grow concerned, she rushed into the mudroom to see if Sophie’s boots were there. They were not.

What was happening? Where was she?

She glanced at the calendar where she wrote all their activities and schedules. December fourteenth. She’d written “Tree Lighting” on today’s square.

December fourteenth. What was it about that date?

Then, suddenly, it occurred to Abby. She’d gotten a call exactly ten years ago today from Ramona. After a long labor, her baby girl had arrived, fat and sassy. It was Sophie’s birthday today, and she’d completely forgotten. Even Grace had forgotten. Sophie knew it, too. That’s why she’d been sad the day before yesterday. She’d known no one would remember or plan anything to celebrate. It was obvious from the marking on the calendar. Instead of noting Sophie’s birthday, she added the tree lighting.

Abby broke out in a cold sweat, and her heart felt as if it skipped a beat and then started to race. A wave of nausea coursed through her, the coffee in her stomach like acid tossed on an already raw wound. She pressed her trembling, clammy hands against her mouth, trying to figure out what to do, but she was frozen in place, teeth clenched so tightly her jaw hurt. But she didn’t care. She deserved to suffer.

How could she have been so thoughtless and selfish? What kind of guardian forgot their child’s birthday?

Rufus, perhaps noticing her nervousness, came to her side and pressed his face against her thigh. She patted his head absently, unable to find a way through the awful murkiness to coherent thought.

Had Sophie been so upset that she ran away? If so, where would she have gone?

Please, not out in this cold alone.

The attic. Maybe the attic. Please, let her be in the attic.

Abby raced up the steep, skinny stairs and pushed open the attic door. She pulled a string to turn on a light and quickly scanned the small space with its sloped ceiling. But she saw only old trunks, forgotten furniture, and boxes filled with memorabilia. No Sophie.

Abby started to hyperventilate, the scent of aged wood, paper, and mold suffocating.

Below her, Rufus barked.

Which was enough to pull her out of a full-blown panic attack.

Where else could she have gone?

Maybe she’d gone out to the barn? She’d learned from Grace that Ramona hadn’t raised animals out there in years, but when Abby had visited as a child they’d had chickens, a few goats, and an old curmudgeon of a barn cat. When she’d asked Walter and Luke about the barn and what she should do with it, Walter had mentioned it was a death trap. He’d advised her to have it torn down or majorly repaired. Since Abby had no plans to keep any animals but Rufus, she was leaning toward tearing it down.

Get dressed. Go find her. Whatever it takes, make this up to her.

The words death trap rattled through her mind as she threw on her on her heavy jacket, shoved her feet into boots, and grabbed her cell phone before braving the cold. Abby called out to Rufus to come with her, and he dutifully followed.

Why would Sophie go out to the barn?

The answer was—she probably wouldn’t. But where else could she be? The idea of her being out in the elements all alone sent a shiver of fear so icy straight through her, she might actually crack in half.

She trudged through the snow to the barn. When she arrived, she pulled open the creaky barn door, the hinges groaning. She went inside, the scents of damp wood and earth assaulting her senses. She could see nothing at first. But as her eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the cracks in the wooden slates, she scanned the entirety of the rough and weathered old barn. Beams overhead warped and sagged, held together by rusted nails. Cobwebs decorated corners. Old hay and leaves blown in over the years covered much of the dirt floor. Broken tools, forgotten barrels, and overturned crates were strewn about. But no Sophie.

Abby clutched at the collar of her jacket. Where could she be? Had she gone to Grace’s?

She heard a sniff from behind her and whirled around. There, huddled in the far corner behind an old pig trough, was Sophie.

The little girl was curled up, her arms wrapped around her knees and her face buried in her arms. She had a jacket on, thank God. And boots.

“Sophie?”

Sophie looked up, her face streaked with dirt and tears but dropped her head back into her arms and seemed to curl up into an even smaller ball. Wanting to disappear.

Because I made her feel invisible.

Abby approached cautiously, not wanting to frighten her or send her running. She spoke softly. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing out here?”

“No one wants me.” This was said into her knees, but Abby heard it loud and clear. “I’m in everyone’s way. I ruin everything. No one remembered my birthday.”

Abby swallowed hard, feeling as if her chest might implode and she would suffocate, and it would be exactly what she deserved. She sat down on the cold, hard floor next to Sophie.

“It’s not true that no one wants you,” Abby said, voice cracking. “I want you. I love you so much. And I’m honored your mom trusted me to look after you. Being here with you and Jack has filled my heart in places I didn’t even know were empty. I know I’m doing a terrible job of it, but I’m trying. It’s just all so new to me. Obviously, I’ve messed up. Forgetting your birthday, it’s just—awful. Unforgivable.”

“Why didn’t anyone remember?” Sophie lifted her head, and the obvious confusion and pain in the sweet girl’s eyes was like a punch in Abby’s gut.

“I should have. I wish I had. I’ll make it up to you, though. I promise. If you’ll let me.”

Words tumbled from the little girl. “I kept thinking you and Luke were going to surprise me with my favorite breakfast like my mom always made, and there would be gobs of presents. I’d get to choose what I wanted for dinner. Mom let me have whatever I wanted, and I always chose fish sticks because she didn’t like us to eat them normally because they were store-bought and not good for us.”

Abby rubbed her eyes, trying to figure out what to do to make this better. “We’ll do all of that tomorrow. And tonight, we’re going in for the tree lighting and we can go to dinner wherever you want. I’ll call your friends’ moms, and we’ll have a party next week. I’ve never really made a cake, but I could try.”

Sophie sniffed, wiping her nose on her jacket sleeve, a small, tentative smile forming on her lips. “Or we get one from the bakery.”

This made Abby smile even though her chest hurt so much she could hardly get words out of her mouth. “Probably a good idea.”

“I want a pink cake.”

“Sure. Whatever you want. You know, I remember the day your mom called me to tell you that you’d arrived. She was exhausted because you took a long time to make your grand entrance, but she sounded so happy. ‘I’m so in love with her.’ That’s what she said to me. Then she described what you looked like—tiny ears and a little pink mouth and she thought maybe you looked a little like me because of your fair skin and light hair.”

“Really?”

Abby nodded, smiling at the memory. “I was proud to be an auntie.” Memories rushed in from that time. “I was able to come out and stay with you that Christmas because I had a break from school. I can remember holding you and rocking you and wishing that someday I could have a baby as beautiful as you.”

“You were here?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t come much after that. Medical school took all my effort. I regret that, Sophie. I really do. I wish I’d been here to see you instead of just looking at photographs. Your mom was so good to always send me pictures from her phone. They’d come in during class or a shift during my residency, and every time, the sight of you would just warm every part of me. I’d smile, knowing how blessed you were to have Ramona as your mom and that both of you made the world a better place.”

“I’ll never see her again. How can that be?” Sophie stared down at her lap, tears creeping down her cheeks and soaking into the collar of her jacket.

Abby pulled her onto her lap and wrapped her arms around her. “You will see her, baby. You will. She’s all around us, watching over us. I feel her presence all the time.”

“You do?”

“Yes, for sure. She’s trying to guide me the best she can, but I’m kind of a mess. I wish I wasn’t.”

“You’re not a mess.” Sophie snuggled closer, burying her cheek into Abby’s neck. “You’ve never done this before. Remember Mom said that all she expected from us was to do our best?”

“I am doing my best, but I’ll do better. I promise.” She lifted Sophie’s chin with the tips of her fingers and looked into her eyes. “But know this—even when I make mistakes, it’s not because I don’t want you or your brother or to be here in Vermont with you. I chose to be here. I chose you and Jack. You’re my family now. My whole world. I’ll never be your mom because no one could ever replace her, but I promise to give you my entire heart and love you as if I was the one who brought you into this world.”

“I promise to love you too.”

“That makes me very happy.” Abby’s voice broke, and tears gathered in her eyes. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, their arms wrapped around each other until Abby suggested they go inside and have breakfast. “And then we’ll call the bakery and order a cake for tomorrow.”

“A pink one?”

“Yes, as pink as they come. And tonight we’ll celebrate in town. Then, tomorrow, we’ll celebrate some more. How does that sound?”

“It sounds good.” Sophie scrambled off her lap, and they both got to their feet. Sophie put her hand in Abby’s, and they headed toward the door.

“I think you should marry Luke.”

Abby almost stumbled. “You do? You wouldn’t mind if we were all a family together?”

“It would be nice for Jack to have a dad. And for Lily to have a mom.”

“And what about you, sweet Sophie? What would be nice about it for you?”

“I’d like to have a dad. There’s a daddy and daughter dance next month at school, and I don’t have anyone to take me.”

“Luke would take you. He’d love to.”

“Do you really think so?” Sophie asked.

“I know so.”

“And Grace and Walter would be our grandparents, and we’d have a whole bunch of uncles.”

“That sounds pretty good to me too.”

“A big, loud family,” Sophie said. “Where we belong to them, and they belong to us.”

“Could there be anything better?”

“I don’t think so,” Sophie said, looking up at her with big blue eyes still damp from tears.

Abby shut the barn door behind them and they walked hand in hand across the yard and into the warm house.

Not house. Home.