Sweet Misfortune: A Novel (20 page)

Chapter 29

Your lingering melancholy is intertwined with
your outlook on life.

D
URING THE NEXT WEEK, GARRETT CALLED ALMOST DAILY
to see how things were going with the mail. Though Sophie had chosen to take a brief hiatus from the piles of letters that were building up again in the back of the kitchen, she promised him that she would give them proper attention during her Sunday trip.

“Oh?” he asked. “Where are you going?”

“None of your business.”

“Well, who are you going with?” he pressed.

“A friend,” she said, and left it at that.

“Not a guy friend though, right?”

Sophie was laughing inside, but she didn’t let on. “Does it matter?”

“Well… no… ,” he stammered. “It’s just… mind if I ask what the purpose of the trip is?”

Sophie was thoroughly enjoying the fact that she was getting under Garrett’s skin. “Well, let’s just say I’m going to meet someone’s parents.”

Garrett became very quiet. “I see,” he said finally. “Well then, have a good time… I guess.” He hung up.

When Friday rolled around, Sophie left Chocolat’ de Soph as soon as Randy arrived. With less hesitation than she’d expected, she boarded a bus, rode it three stops to a pawnshop in Tacoma, and carried out an idea she’d been toying with for a year: she rid herself of the engagement ring that Garrett had given her. When the deed was done, she walked out with a wad of cash, which she promptly spent on a seven-year-old Ford Explorer at a used-car dealership two blocks away. It wasn’t the prettiest car around, but it had low miles for its age, the price was right, and, above all, it felt safe to drive.

Sophie eased the Explorer out of the car lot very slowly, and for the entire ride home she never came close to reaching the posted speed limit.
Safety first
, she told herself, when faster cars honked their horns at her.

After work on Saturday she spent several hours driving around the local highways, just to make sure she felt completely comfortable behind the wheel. The more time she drove, the better she felt, but her speed remained uncommonly slow.

“You drive like an old woman,” commented Evalynn the next morning, after Sophie picked her up for their long drive to Millwood.

“Well, that’s a sexist thing to say,” observed Sophie.

“And ageist, too. I don’t care—it’s the truth. If you don’t pick up the pace we won’t get there until next week.”

With white knuckles clenching the steering wheel, Sophie pressed a little harder on the gas, but still didn’t keep up with traffic.

After an hour on the road, Evalynn demanded that Sophie take the next exit so they could switch places in the car. Sophie gladly obliged and was relieved to take over opening the responses to the want ad from the safety of the passenger seat.

Halfway through the drive Sophie’s cell began ringing. She picked it up to find Garrett’s picture staring back at her. “Should I answer?” she asked Evalynn.

“Up to you.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Okay.”

“But he’ll just keep calling until I do.”

Evalynn laughed. “Oh, just pick it up, already. You obviously want to.”

Sophie scowled back, silently mouthing the words
I do not!
at the same time as she picked up. “Hello?”

G
ARRETT WAS SITTING
at home in the living room. “Hey, Soph!” he said. “It’s Garrett.”

“I know who it is. What do you want?” She sounded completely disinterested.

“Just checking to see how your trip is going. You’re traveling today, right? Who’d you say you’re with?”

“I didn’t,” she replied flatly.

“Oh, that’s right,” he said, amused at her unwillingness to divulge information. “Well how are the letters coming? Are we getting any closer to our date?”

“I’m going through them now,” she said, “but I have to say, it’s still not looking good.”

“Well, there are a lot of crazy people out there,” he joked, “who wouldn’t know happiness even if they were talking to it on the phone.”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just having fun, Soph. But seriously, what’s the tally at now? Seventy? Eighty?”

“Twelve,” she chirped, sounding a bit smug. “But I’ve got about two hundred letters on my lap right now, so by the end of the day we might make it to thirteen.”

Garrett laughed again. He was about to make another joke, but Sophie spoke first.

“Hold on, Garrett, I’ll be right back. Someone else is calling in.” He heard the line click off. Thirty seconds later it clicked back on. “You still there?”

“Yep. Telemarketers?”

“Ah, wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Actually, I would.”

“Well sorry to disappoint, but I have to take this call, Garrett. I can’t leave him waiting too long.”

Garrett clenched the fist that wasn’t holding the phone to his ear. “
Him?
Him who?”

“His name is Alex.”

There was a long silence. “And how do you know Alex?”

“Oh, our paths crossed recently, and we just sort of hit it off. He’s the sweetest guy in the world.”

Garrett could feel his temperature rising. “Seriously? You’re like… seeing him? Just like that?”

“Just like what?”

“I dunno. But I could’ve sworn you said you were done with men.”

“Sorry, Garrett. I can’t keep him waiting any longer. Bye.” Sophie clicked off.

L
UCY MCDONALD LIVED
at the end of a dusty road on a one-acre parcel near the edge of town. The home had all the charm of an old country farmhouse, but if there had ever been a working farm there, it was long since gone. A patchwork of unmowed grass and weeds surrounded the gabled house, and the edge of the property was lined with thick maple trees that had already lost their leaves for the winter.

After four hours of driving, Evalynn turned into the McDonalds’ drive. As they pulled to a stop, Sophie quickly scanned the row of windows along the front of the house, looking for any indication that someone was home. Her stomach did a somersault when she saw that two lights were on.

“You want to come in with me?” Sophie asked.

“Really? You sure you want me there?”

Sophie exhaled to calm her nerves. “Actually, I think I could use the support.”

Both women got out of the car and made their way to the large covered porch that wrapped around three full sides of the square-shaped structure. Sophie rang the bell, and moments later the door swung open slowly. Standing in front of them was a little old woman, slightly hunched, and smiling. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“I hope so,” said Sophie. “Are you Lucy McDonald?”

The woman winked. “Last time I checked.” Her words came out slow, but were clear and articulate. “Have we met?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You sure? I swear I’ve seen your face somewhere.” She waved a bony finger. “I have a real knack for faces. Can’t remember names to save my life, but I don’t forget a face…” Lucy’s voice trailed off as she studied Sophie’s hair, then her eyes, followed by her mouth and chin, and finally back to her eyes.

Sophie tried to ignore the examination. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs. McDonald. My name is Sophie. I was hoping I could talk to you about your son, Tim. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Tim? Oh my. Dear sweet Tim. You know he’s passed on, don’t you?”

Sophie grimaced. “Yes. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Well then,” she cackled, “don’t just stand out there in the cold. Come in. Come in.”

Lucy led the way through the house to a sitting room that connected the formal dining room with the main living room. A small fire burning in the fireplace made it feel cozy. Lucy held onto the armrests of a tall chair with both hands to lower herself down to sit. Evalynn and Sophie sat next to each other a few yards away on a burgundy-colored, Victorian-style sofa that was a near-perfect match in color to the room’s deep red wallpaper.

“Did you know Timmy personally?” she asked, but then immediately answered her own question. “No, you would have been too young.”

“You’re right, I didn’t know him. But I saw him once. On the day of the accident.”

Mrs. McDonald’s expression had been all smiles up to that point, but the smile quickly deflated in a heavy sigh. “I see,” she said, as much to herself as to Sophie. “On the day of the accident, or at the accident?”

Sophie cleared her throat. “At the accident. Before he was taken to the hospital.”

Lucy nodded, and then turned to Evalynn. “You too? Did you see my Timmy at the accident?”

Evalynn shook her head without speaking.

Fixing her eyes once more on Sophie, Lucy said, “He was a good boy. Had his struggles, like everyone, I suppose. But he was a good boy.” She continued looking in Sophie’s direction, but her mental focus shifted as she recalled the past. “I’ll never forget the day I found out. A mother never wants to hear that her boy was killed, and I swear I wanted to die myself when I got the call.” Her face curled up and she shook her head gently from side to side. “He’d been in the hospital for three days already, and nobody bothered to tell me. Why wouldn’t they tell me? I didn’t hear anything about the accident until after he was gone. I’d have sure liked to pay him a visit before he passed, but I never had the chance.” Lucy blinked, helping her to focus once more on Sophie. “How was it that you saw him? Did you see the accident happen?”

Sophie grimaced. “From very close range, I’m afraid. I was in one of the other cars. After it happened I saw the paramedics working to help your son.” She paused. “I know it’s been a very long time since it happened, but I’m really sorry for your loss, Mrs. McDonald.”

Lucy may have been old, but she was sharp as a tack. “Well I can’t imagine that you looked me up and drove all this way just to tell me that you saw my son on death’s door.” She tilted her head and leaned forward in her seat. “I’m not one for pussyfooting. What’s really on your mind, Miss Sophie?”

Sophie tried to smile but couldn’t. She handed the old woman Ellen’s police report. “I came across this recently. It’s the report from the accident, and I thought you might like the official account of what happened that night.”

With a cockeyed glance, Lucy said, “That’s sweet, dear. But you didn’t have to go to the trouble.” She took the report from Sophie and flipped through it. After scanning the main parts about her son, she looked up and said. “It says just what they told me back then—more or less. You really came all the way out here just so I could see this?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s it?”

“Well… not quite. Lucy, I don’t quite know the right way to say this. I guess I could start by pointing out that the term
car accident
can mean different things. Mechanical failures sometimes cause accidents, or poor weather, like the report says there. What I mean is, circumstances from one accident to the next are never identical.”

Lucy leaned back and cackled again. “Now you’re not just pussyfooting. You’re beating around the bush too. What’s the punch line, dear?”

Sophie glanced momentarily at Evalynn, whose wide eyes and pursed lips encouraged her to press onward.

“Okay, here’s the deal. Although everyone chalked the accident up to the rain, that doesn’t quite tell the whole story. I want you to know the whole truth about what happened. That night, before the cars started sliding into each other in the rain, a person made a costly mistake.”

Lucy blinked hard. “Oh dear,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I always wondered if maybe Tim was responsible. Is that the news you’ve come to share?”

“What? Oh, no, that’s not it at all. It was… someone else. Someone who’s always felt terrible about what she did.”

Now Mrs. McDonald closed one wrinkled eyelid so she could narrow her focus. “Don’t tell me you think you were responsible,” she said dismissively, guessing at Sophie’s unspoken implication.

“But,” stammered Sophie, “I was.”

“Oh really? Were you driving?”

“No, but—”

“No buts. You were a little girl. How old back then? Six? Seven?”

“Nine.”

“Well, there you go. Nine-year-old girls who aren’t driving the car don’t cause accidents.” She raised an index finger again and pointed. “That’s a fact, mind you, so don’t try to argue.”

“But—”

“Shush! No arguing!” She put her finger down and smiled. “Sophie, I miss my son. Loved him like… well, like every mother loves their child. But you needn’t carry the weight of what happened on your back, no matter what you think happened that night. And I don’t hold you or anyone else responsible. It was an accident in the rain, end of discussion.”

“But I—”

“Shush,” she said again, smiling.

Evalynn chuckled.

Sophie tried to frown, but it didn’t stick.

“Now then,” continued Lucy, “I just can’t stop thinking that I’ve seen you somewhere. Are you sure we haven’t met before today?” She took another visual tour of Sophie’s facial features.

Sophie was in the middle of telling her that she’d never previously been to either Millwood or Spokane, when Lucy’s wrinkled eyes lit up.

“Good Lord! What did you say your name was?”

“Sophie.”

“Yes, but Sophie what? Jonas?”