Somewhere Between Black and White (20 page)

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Authors: Shelly Hickman,Rosa Sophia

BOOK: Somewhere Between Black and White
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With a sigh, he lifted her hand, still
so frail, to his lips. He cradled it gently in both hands and whispered, “Evie
. . . I’m sorry. I love you.”

 

Twenty-Five

When Sophie stopped outside Sam’s
classroom Friday afternoon, she was surprised to see him speaking with Ian. She
hadn’t seen or heard anything more about Ian since the whole thing with the
website broke, and assumed that he wouldn’t be returning.

Sam glanced up and spotted her standing
in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked. “Is it
okay if I come in?”

“Sure,” he said before turning to Ian. “Look
who came by to pay a visit.”

Ian sheepishly lifted his hand in
greeting. “Hey, Miss Cook.”

“Well, if this doesn’t make my whole
week, getting to see your handsome face!” Sophie gave him a smile.

“Thanks.” Ian blushed. “It’s great to
see you guys, too.”

“Ian says he’ll be coming back to stay
on Monday,” Sam explained.

Sophie took a seat beside them,
attempting to hide her concern about the news.  “That’s . . . great!” She shot
Sam a questioning look.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Ian insisted.

They sat in silence, and Sophie burned
to say something. She didn’t think it was a good idea, but managed to hold her
tongue.

Sam finally spoke. “You know, you really
scared Miss Cook with that video you made. Kinda scared me, too.”

Ian lowered his head, and it was as if the
afterschool din suddenly fell away. Student voices in the hallway ceased. The
courtyard outside was now empty. Even the air conditioner ended its cycle and
the room fell jarringly still. Sophie stared at her fingernails, wondering if
she should change the subject. Honestly, none of this was any of their business,
but Ian had to know this was likely to come up.

“I was definitely in a bad place when I
made that,” Ian admitted with a nod. “It’s pretty embarrassing now.”

“Hey, you had every right to feel the
way you did,” Sam said.

Ian shifted in his seat, then faced
Sophie. “Miss Cook, I’m sorry I scared you. I want you to know that I would
never do anything . . . stupid. I wouldn’t do that to my mom. I wouldn’t do
that to my sister.”

Sophie said nothing, the lump in her
throat holding her voice.
This kid is just so incredible!   

“We’re both relieved to hear that,
buddy,” Sam reassured him.

“So, you’re sure you’ll be okay here?”
Sophie asked.

Ian smiled mildly, rubbing his hands
over his jeans. “I’m sure. I can’t let other people run my life. Why should
I
have to go to another school? This is a good school, and I like the teachers
here.”

He stared at the floor, seeming to mull
over something else.

“Well, at least you won’t have to deal
with those kids anymore,” Sam said. “Jake and his
associates
. They’re
gone now.”

“Jake e-mailed me,” Ian blurted. “An
apology.”

“Really!” Sophie retorted. “Oh, I’m sure
he is
quite
sorry now, with the load of crap he’s gotten himself into!
Funny how
that
works.”

With a slight grimace, Sam closed his
eyes for a moment.

“I don’t know, Miss Cook. I think he
meant it.” Ian rose from his seat and leaned on a desk, intermittently running
the tips of his fingers along its surface. “He told me that it was the worst
thing he’d ever done, that he never meant to be such a jerk. You know, Mr. Collins,
he has a sick mom, too?”

“No. I didn’t.”

Ian shrugged. “Maybe you guys think I’m stupid
for buying it, but I think I believe him.”

Sophie remained motionless, in hopes
that Ian wouldn’t notice the covert glance she gave Sam, expressing her dismay.
She worried Ian would only open himself up to more abuse.

“Maybe you
can
believe him,” Sam said.

Sophie turned away and rolled her eyes.
Then she stood up and gave Ian a sincere embrace. “You’re a better man than me,
Ian.”

“I hope so,” he joked.

Each of them released a guarded chuckle.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you guys on
Monday,” Ian said. “Have a good weekend.”

Sam shook his head, waiting until Ian
was out of earshot. 

“What is it?” Sophie asked.

“Why couldn’t you just support him?”

“What?” His tone bewildered her. “What
do you mean?”

“Come on! Your disapproval of his take
on Jake’s apology. Completely obvious.”

Was he actually angry with her? “I’m sorry
if I don’t want to see him get screwed over again.”

Sam sighed. “
Everyone
gets
screwed over some time or another, Sophie, it’s just a matter of degree.” He
had tamed his impatience and sounded surprisingly calm. “It’s part of life.
There was nothing that boy did to instigate what happened. It’s just part of
life
!
And he is choosing to move on from it. Not be a victim with a chip on his
shoulder. Do you have any idea how remarkable that is?”

He turned to get some water out of the
mini-fridge. Sophie didn’t know how to respond as he took a swig from the
bottle. He swirled the container in small circles, pausing before continuing.
“I’m sorry if you find it so unnerving that some people forgive that easily.
Maybe he won’t always be that way. I hope he will.” He lifted his eyes to hers.
“I know you don’t believe it, but forgiveness doesn’t have to be synonymous
with being a doormat.”

With that, he set down his water. “I
need to make a pit stop before heading home.” On his way out, he briefly
squeezed her shoulder, then brushed passed her into the hallway.

Sophie stared after him with her mouth
hanging open, before plopping into a nearby seat.

 

Twenty-Six

Sophie sprawled out on her couch,
sipping coffee, replaying yesterday’s exchange with Sam. His reaction was so
unexpected. They were good now—Sam never stayed mad about anything for long—but
why did she feel like a reprimanded child? She never said Ian was unremarkable.
He was definitely remarkable, but also vulnerable. Sam would just argue,
aren’t
we all?

Come to think of it, she saw an awful
lot of Sam in Ian. Maybe she dwelled on things too much. After all, Sam managed
to make it to adulthood more or less in one piece.

Stop being a worry wart!
she imagined Evie saying.
You worry too much
, Sam had chided.

Sophie reached for Sam’s t-shirt, which
lay beside her, and thoughtlessly began rubbing it between her finger and thumb.
She gazed blankly at the window as the morning light streamed through.

Okay,
maybe she
was
wound a little bit too tight.

She held Matthew’s face in her hands. He
was crying, but they were tears of anger. “You have to let it go. You have to,”
she said. “This is consuming you!”

Matthew yanked her hands away. “How can
you say that? He killed my father!” He rose to his feet. “And you’re telling me
to let it go?”

“Don’t you think I miss him, too?” she
asked, her voice breaking. “But he’s gone! The person who did it is gone.  Are
you going to spend the rest of your life seeking him out, when your son and I
need you now?”

“He was supposed to be Dad’s friend.”

“I
know that,” she answered. “But what would you do if you found him? Kill him?” Matthew
said nothing, leaving her momentarily speechless. “And is that what Ping taught
you? This person you loved and admired so much?”

A knock at the front door startled
Sophie. Jerking forward, she splattered coffee onto the floor.  She searched
for something to wipe up the spill, but had to leave it for now when the
knocking resumed. “Okay, I’m coming. Hold your horses!”

Her brother-in-law stood on the front
porch.

“Christian,” she said, catching her
breath.  “Hi.”

“Hi. Can I come in?”

“Uh, sure.” She stepped back and he took
a tentative step inside. “Have a seat. Just not over there,” she added. “I
spilled some coffee. Just, uh. . . .” Given what she had just seen, the coffee,
and now Christian showing up, she was scattered. “Give me a minute to clean up
this mess.”

“Do you need help?” he called as she
hurried to the kitchen.

“I’m good!” She grabbed some paper
towels and returned to the living room. “So to what do I owe this visit?” Dropping
to her knees, she blotted the coffee from the carpet. When he didn’t answer, she
looked up.

“I’m not sure where to start,” he said.

Sophie wadded the wet paper towels into
a ball and set them on the table beside her. “Start at the beginning.”

“I owe you an apology.”

“Don’t you mean you owe Evie an
apology?”

Christian rubbed his forehead. “That
goes without saying. But, I also need you to know. I wasn’t trying to deceive
you when we spoke at the mall.”

“Oh, you mean when you assured me Evie
was the only one? Yeah, I’m pretty damned pissed at you, Christian. I’m not
gonna lie.”

He nodded. “Yep.”

She squinted at him. “So is this why you
came, to sit there passively while I rip you a new one? I’m sorry, but there’s
gotta be more to it than that.”

Christian locked his fingers and leaned
forward on his lap. “Evie sees something in me that no one else sees. I’m
convinced it was that way from the day we met. I realize that more than ever
now, and I won’t risk losing it again.” He ran his hands to the back of his
head and stared at his shoes.

“There are reasons for the mistakes I’ve
made, Sophie,” he muttered. “I’m not saying they excuse anything, but . . . .”

Sam once said the same thing. That there
are always reasons for the things people do, whether they recognize them or
not. But shouldn’t be confused with excuses.

“Maybe this is a conversation you should
have with Evie,” Sophie said.

He shook his head. “I don’t have to. She
already knows this. It’s why she’s willing to give me a second chance.”

It was true. Evelyn was going to give
him another chance, and Sophie had to ask herself, would she be able to do the
same? Before she met Sam, her answer would have been an emphatic
no
. Besides,
she was confident Sam wasn’t capable of doing such a thing, so the point was
moot.

But what if he was?

In all honesty, though she’d been no fan
of Christian the past few years, she never thought he was capable of betraying
her sister. What if Sam made such a mistake? Would it be so simple to walk
away, especially if, like Evie, she believed he was truly sorry? Could she give
up on him so easily? She hadn’t even known Sam a year. Evie and Christian were
high school sweethearts.

Squirming with discomfort, she realized
Sam might be converting her to gray instead of black and white. She didn’t like
gray. Black and white was easier.

“I still don’t understand why you’re
telling me this, if you say Evie already knows.”

Christian hesitated, his brow knitted.
“Because you’re the only sister I’ve got, Sophie. And I know you don’t think of
me as a brother, but I would like it if we could start over.”

Not what she expected. “Really?”

“You’ll probably think it’s stupid . .
.”  He rose, picking up the paper towels and bringing them to the kitchen.
Sophie assumed he meant to avoid eye contact as he spoke.  “But that day at the
mall, you told me about the painting, and you said you hadn’t told anyone else
. . .”  He stood at the edge of the kitchen.  “It meant a lot to me.”

She had been grateful for his advice, the
friendship they shared, however brief. Maybe there was a reason he was in her
life. Nevermind that she found him immensely irritating. After all, he had
miraculously—
expertly—
crystallized a place she had only seen in dreams.

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” she admitted. 

Christian exhaled. “Good. Then maybe
there’s hope for us, eh?”

He would not be an easy one to know. So
closed off. So serious, and
mopey
! Then again, if someone as special as
her sister saw something worthwhile, maybe he wasn’t all bad.

However, she’d keep that to herself. For
now.

 

Twenty-Seven

Topeka,
Kansas, 1947

Natalie rocked her son in the porch swing
of their new home. The place wasn’t nearly as big as the farmhouse she grew up
in, but it was far more charming. It was a warm summer evening. Crickets chirped
and children played a game of kickball in the street. It had taken some getting
used to—the sounds of a neighborhood, the glow of streetlights invading her
bedroom at night.

Matthew eased through the squeaky screen
door, drawing Natalie’s attention. He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave
her an apologetic smile. She returned her consideration to baby Oscar.

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