Sweet Misfortune: A Novel (3 page)

“How do you mean?”

“Well, the wish of my heart was to get some chocolate. But he must have forgotten, so I showed him—” Sophie raised her white-knuckled hand. “I showed him that we
would
stop.”

“You showed him your hand?”

Sophie shook her head. “I showed him what’s in my hand. He told me at the restaurant that it would come true, so I wanted him to remember. And then…”

Ellen rubbed the young girl’s shoulder softly. “It’s okay, sweetie. What happened next?”

“He turned around to see it. Then a horn honked. He didn’t have time to turn back around.” The last words were barely audible. Sophie’s head sagged between her shoulders. “It’s all my fault,” she said, crying once more.

Just then the other officer returned. “They’re on their way,” he said quietly, trying not to intrude.

“Thanks, Pete. Hey, Sophie’s grandmother was in the car, too. Can you—?”

Pete cut her off midsentence with a look that said,
Don’t ask. You won’t like the answer.

Ellen rubbed Sophie’s shoulder and arm a little harder. “It’s all gonna be okay, Sophie Jones. I promise you that. One way or another, it’s going to be okay. And it’s
not
your fault.”

Sophie wrapped herself tighter in the blanket and looked down once more at her clenched fist.

“You care to show me now what you’re hiding there in your hand?”

Nodding, Sophie slowly peeled open her fingers. Cradled inside her shivering hand was a crumpled slip of paper from a fortune cookie. Ellen leaned in closer so she could read the message, and then she understood.

Happiness is a gift that shines within you.
The wish of your heart will soon come true.

“It’s not true, is it?” Sophie asked. “None of it. Fortune cookies aren’t real, are they? My dad lied.”

Ellen didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t further ruin the girl, if that were even possible. “Well, they do come true,” she fibbed. “Eventually.”

Sophie’s eyes opened a bit wider, but her expression was one of doubt. “Really?”

“Sure.” Ellen shrugged. “Your dad wouldn’t lie to you, now would he? And I wouldn’t, either. It
will
come true.”

Sophie took a moment to weigh Ellen’s words. “Okay. If you really think it will, then the new wish of my heart is to have my family back. I saw them in the car, and… and I’m old enough to know they’re gone. But I want them back!
That’s
my wish.”

Ellen felt like her heart was being ripped out of her chest. For the first time ever on the job, she allowed the emotions that swelled inside her to spill over in the form of tears. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I know that’s your wish. That’s my wish too. But—but—”

“But I can’t have that wish, can I?”

Ellen breathed out a long, painful sigh, then brushed away the tears that were running down her own face and tucked a wisp of hair behind the girl’s ear. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart.”

S
OPHIE WADDED UP
the tiny paper and threw it on the ground in front of her. It landed without a sound in a small current of water running along the edge of the street. She watched as it floated slowly away, carrying with it all of her hopes and dreams. Part of her wanted to chase after it, to pick it up and dry it off, and pretend like everything would be okay. But it wouldn’t be okay, and she refused to kid herself. Her parents were gone, her grandparents were gone, and there was nobody left in the world to love her. Her mind flashed back to scenes of the wreckage—the UPS truck driver, the cars flipped every which way, the man with the missing fingers, and especially her own parents’ lifeless bodies. “It’s
my
fault,” she whispered numbly to herself again. “All my fault.”

Chapter 3

Something you lost will soon turn up,
but some lost things are better left unfound.

September 21, 2009

S
OPHIE’S STORE WAS LOCATED IN A SMALL RETAIL SPACE
on Commerce Avenue, marked by a sleek, brushed-nickel sign that protruded horizontally from the building just above the front entrance. The laser-embossed lettering read, Chocolat’ de Soph, followed by a much smaller cursive subscript: Confections of the Heart.

The interior of the store was decidedly upscale. Several large postmodern paintings hung on the walls at varying heights and angles, their colorful patterns providing sufficient visual interest against the gloss-black paneling and stainless-steel trim to keep the clean, contemporary décor from getting stale. Four Austrian-crystal dishes sat atop an etched-glass display case; they would be used later to hold free samples of the day’s fresh fudge. Matching granite tables, each supported by a thick, hammered-steel base, stood in opposite corners near the store’s tinted bay windows. The tables and their barstools provided both space and ambiance for patrons who wished to sit and enjoy a warm drink while nibbling on Sophie’s rich chocolate creations.

The morning hours passed as they always did, with Sophie quietly rushing from one task to another. There were nuts to chop, molds to fill, butters to melt, powders to blend, creams to stir, liquids to measure, sweeteners to add, and a thousand other tasks to complete before the doors opened at 10:00
AM
. Compounding all of that, Sophie had to make sure that Evalynn stayed clear of the peanut-butter balls in the refrigerator until they were firm enough to dip.

Evalynn, for her part, offered little noticeable help. Most of her effort was spent fingering the chocolate creams to determine which one she liked best. Sophie didn’t mind. Even though she would have rather been alone with her thoughts, she appreciated her friend’s gesture; Evi’s presence alone had helped lighten her weighty emotional load.

At nine forty, with nearly everything ready, Sophie grabbed a pen and a handful of narrow slips of paper from the small office that adjoined the kitchen area at the rear of the building and sat down to complete her morning preparations. Writing out those unique fortunes had become her favorite part of the job, and it was probably the main reason her niche business had managed to stay afloat in a slowing economy.

“Any specific theme today?” asked Evalynn.

“Nope.” Sophie tapped the pen on her lips while pondering what to write.

“You aiming for mild disappointment, or full-blown heartache?”

Sophie glanced up, annoyed. “Sshh. Neither. The goal is reality, nothing more.”

Evi stifled a laugh. “Your reality or mine?”

“Stop.”

“Can I help you write them?”

“Nope.”

“Well then, can I at least have a peanut-butter truffle?” she asked hopefully.

With a hint of a growl, Sophie hissed, “Be quiet! I can’t think. Just turn your mouth off for a few minutes. Please.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” whispered Evalynn, as she started for the other room, where a tray of fresh truffles was on display.

“Fine,” said Sophie, frustrated. “Knock yourself out. But just give me a few minutes’ peace so I can finish.”

Fifteen minutes later, satisfied that she had enough slips of paper filled out to meet the day’s demand, she gathered them together and joined Evalynn in the front of the store.

“How’d you make out?” asked Evi.

Sophie handed her the small stack of tiny slips. “See for yourself. And when you’re done, would you mind sliding them into the fortune cookies? I have a couple more things to clean up in the back before we open.”

Morning sales can be notoriously slow, even for the best chocolatiers, so it didn’t surprise Sophie that nobody was beating the door down when she turned on the neon Open sign that hung in the window. Chocolat’ de Soph opened promptly at ten, but the first customers didn’t arrive until ten thirty, and they were more interested in free samples than anything else.

Shortly after eleven o’clock the lunch rush started, and sales began to pick up. As always, the big customer draw was Sophie’s Misfortune Cookies, each of which included one of her unique, handwritten prognostications of gloom, doom, or pending hardships. By design, Misfortune Cookies weren’t the best-tasting treat in the store. After bending and baking the cookies to the traditional fortune cookie shape, they were dipped in a vat of unsweetened chocolate stock imported directly from a cocoa plantation in Brazil. The resulting taste was shock-and-awe on unsuspecting mouths. When she dreamed up the odd cookies eleven months earlier, Sophie figured they’d be a short-term gimmick at best, a novelty that would fizzle. But to her great surprise, the bitter morsels had grown into a high-volume, high-margin staple, gaining enough local infamy to keep them flying off the shelf. She’d even started getting mail orders from other parts of the country.

Just prior to two o’clock in the afternoon, while Sophie was ringing up a husband and wife who seemed perfectly giddy to find out from their Misfortune Cookies that their car would soon break down and that others talked about them behind their backs, Evi tapped on her watch and mouthed,
It’s almost time!

Sophie’s brow furrowed tightly as she remembered the arrangements her friend had spoken of earlier. She handed the couple their change and waited for them to exit before turning back to her friend. “Okay, Ev. Spill it. What’s the big surprise?”

Evalynn glanced again at her watch. “I told you, my lips are sealed.”

“Is something being delivered to the store?” There was no reply. “Is it a tangible something-or-other?” Still nothing. “Oh c’mon, give me a clue, Evi. You know I hate surprises.”

“Fine. Yes, something is coming to the store. Something tangible. But that’s all you’re getting out of me.” She zipped her fingers across her lips, then twisted an imaginary key at the edge of her mouth and dropped it down the front of her blouse.

“When? It better not be until later in the day.”

Evalynn glanced beyond Sophie’s shoulder toward the door, then back at her watch, and then she began tiptoeing toward the kitchen. “Oh,” she said slowly, drawing out the word while stealing another quick peek at the window near the entrance, “I’m guessing, right about…” Evi ducked out of sight as she called over her shoulder, “Now!”

At the same moment, the bell that hung from the front door jingled lightly. Sophie kept her back to the door, unwilling to face whatever surprise had just entered her store. Her stomach churned with dread as her mind raced to deduce what kind of a surprise would arrive with such obvious punctuality at precisely two o’clock.
A singing telegram? No, that would be too cheesy, even for Evi. A delivery of… what? Definitely not chocolates. Maybe flowers? Yes! She said she’d made arrangements. That could be an arrangement of flowers, right? A nice bouquet, perhaps? I hate surprises! Please be flowers. Please…

Sophie turned reluctantly. Before she made it all the way around she closed her eyes in a final attempt to delay the inevitable. After a few shallow breaths, interspersed here and there with unkind murmuring about Evalynn for doing this to her, Sophie forced one eyelid up, just a crack. Then she gasped, and both eyes shot wide open.

“What the—” Her face flushed instantly. She tried to gather her composure before uttering, “Oh. Crap.” It wasn’t exactly what she intended to say, but she delivered the words with as much grace and poise as could be expected, then followed up eloquently with, “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Chapter 4

An apple a day keeps the doctor away.
You should invest in an apple orchard.

S
ICK? MAYBE YOU SHOULD SEE A DOCTOR.” HE HELD A
dozen long-stemmed roses peppered with fresh lilies, and he had a perfect mouth, even when he spoke. He was half a foot taller than Sophie, strong jawed, and well proportioned. Everything about him—the thick, dark hair, the dimples, the soothing timbre of his voice—was just as she remembered.

Sophie felt a strange urge to smooth her hair and straighten her blouse, but she resisted.
Bad habits die hard
, she thought. “I see one. That’s my problem.” She paused. Her eyes wandered circumspectly around the room, hoping to find something more worthy of her stare than him. “Umm. Why are you here?”

He took a couple of steps forward so he could close the door behind him. His sympathetic smile remained fixed in place. “Can we back up a sec? How about we start with a simple greeting, like ‘Hello’ or ‘Good to see you’?”

She folded her arms and bit her lower lip nervously. “Do we have to?”

He took a long breath. “No, but I’d like to.”

She sized him up once more, and then relented. “Fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.” She waited. “Oh, you want
me
to start?”

“It’s your candy store,” he said with a wink.

Sophie recalled how she used to love those winks. Now she wasn’t so sure. “Fine. Umm. Hello… Garrett. You’re—here. Uninvited, I might add. Welcome.”

“Hi, Sophie,” he replied softly. “Happy birthday.” He held up the flowers and started stepping closer, slowly, like a cautious mouse moving in to inspect a trap. “You look great. How’ve you been?”

Sophie didn’t respond immediately. Looking down briefly at the display case, she caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the glass, and what she saw jolted her. No longer was she a confident, independent woman or a capable business owner. She was a teenage girl, a starry-eyed kid dreaming of the day that she would fall in love. She looked once more and saw the same girl, a few years older, in college, feeling very much alone, like she might never find someone who would care for her unconditionally. Again the reflection changed. Now she was moving from one bad relationship to another, each suitor blending curiously with the next, but all of them ending in heartache. Then, as if by a miracle, in the blink of an eye she was showing off an engagement ring to Evi, holding Garrett’s hand, making wedding plans, and sending out invitations. Sophie squinted hard once more, but the image faded away. She knew it would.

“I’ve been better. Now back to my original question. What are you doing here?”

Garrett kept inching forward until the only thing standing between him and Sophie was the glass display case. He looked at her and his demeanor softened even further. The curve of his dimpled smile flattened into a solemn, serious line. “I’ve missed you, Soph.”

It took only a split second for Sophie’s mind to list all of the possible reactions to such an incredible statement: cry pathetically, turn and walk away, cheer, run into his arms, scream hysterically, vomit, panic, faint, call the police, throw the nearest half-empty bowl of Oreo fudge in his face, all of the above, or…

Sophie laughed. A single, simple, “that’s just about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard” kind of a laugh. She then glanced out the window to make sure no customers were about to enter the store.

Only then, when she was absolutely positive that the coast was clear, she yelled as loud as she could. “Evalynn Marion Mason-Mack! Get in here right now!”

A faint reply echoed from somewhere in the back. “Umm… just a minute.”

“Now!” she repeated. “And get your filthy fingers out of the peanut-butter dough!”

There was a momentary pause, followed by a barely audible cry of dismay. “What the heck? Are there hidden cameras in the refrigerator?” A few seconds later Evi poked her head sheepishly around the wall that hid the kitchen from the rest of the store. She curtsied playfully. “You screamed, my lady?”

Sophie reached out and yanked her into full view by the sleeve of her shirt. “Explain,” she commanded, motioning to Garrett, who was smiling again.

“Hey, careful with the pregnant lady,” joked Evalynn.

“Explain,
now.
”

“Oh, c’mon, Sophie. I just thought… you know, that maybe you could use a little extra spark for your birthday.”

“A spark?” she howled. “This is an explosion! Or an implosion. Either way, what were you thinking?”

“Well, I… ,” stammered Evalynn, “I see your point, I guess. But… really I just thought… Oh, c’mon, don’t you see the twisted humor here? What spark burns brighter than an old flame, right?”

Sophie wanted to scream again, but she held her tongue. “So
this
was your big surprise? Twenty years since the worst day of my life, and to celebrate it you invite over the guy who’s responsible for the
second
worst day of my life? Brilliant.”

Evalynn shrugged. “Well, when you put it like that, I suppose—”

“Wait a minute, ladies,” piped Garrett, wearing his serious expression again. Sophie imagined that was the look he used when he had to give patients bad news. “Can I say something?” Neither woman responded, so he continued. “Sophie, I contacted Evi a few days ago when I made up my mind that I was coming to see you. She didn’t seek me out or invite me. In fact, she told me flat out to leave you alone. But when she couldn’t change my mind, she chose to come today as well, just in case you needed her.”

Sophie turned to Evalynn. “Is that true?”

Evi nodded.

“And I know very well,” Garrett continued, “that I hurt you. I won’t make excuses, but you should know that what I did hurt me, too. Your second worst day happens to be my very worst day, and that’s why I came today. There were things I wasn’t ready to tell you back then, but I feel like you need to know the truth. And I think if you’ll give me a chance, you’ll find that your birthday is the perfect day to hear what I need to say.”
Garrett held out the flowers and looked deep into Sophie’s eyes.

She reluctantly took the bouquet, glaring at him as she did so. Then she glared equally hard at Evalynn, and then once more at Garrett. “Are you out of your mind? Usually I ask that the nuts get delivered to the back door, and yet here you are. Garrett, I really don’t think we have anything to talk about. It was almost a year ago, for crying out loud. You left. You had your reasons. End of story.”

Garrett’s face sank. “You won’t indulge me for one little date to sit and talk, so I can tell you what—?”

“I thought you said you just came to talk! Now you want a date, too?”

“Sophie,” Garrett said, “listen. What I have to say to you is important. You probably won’t like it, but it’s important that you hear it anyway. Can you give me just one evening to say what I need to say, so both of us can have some sort of closure?” He paused, begging with his eyes. “
Please?
”

She shook her head sternly. “No. Not going to happen.”

“But I—”

She lifted a finger. “No.”

“Just one date,” he pressed. “I know I should have handled things better than I did, but is it too much to ask for an hour of your time to say what should have been said before?”

Sophie ignored him. “If you don’t mind, I have a business to run here. Evi, I think I can handle everything up front, so you’re welcome to go work on the dishes.”

Evalynn nodded apologetically and went to the back.

Garrett looked like he’d been punched. He stared longingly at the beautiful woman who’d stolen his heart a year earlier. But he’d taken her heart as well, held it in his hands like a treasure, and then, when she least expected it, dropped it like a rock and stomped on it. “Well as long as I’m here,” he said, letting out a long breath, “can I at least buy some of your chocolates?”

Sophie considered his question briefly, looking for any hidden ploy. “Fine. I won’t turn away a paying customer,” she responded flatly.

He scanned the full length of the glass display case. “Anything new since the last time I was in?”

A mischievous grin played at the corner of Sophie’s mouth, but she tried to hide it. “Actually, yes. These right here are the top sellers,” she said proudly, pulling a basket of chocolate-dipped fortune cookies from behind the counter. “Believe it or not, you were part of the inspiration behind them.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding both doubtful and flattered at the same time. “They look delicious. How much?”

“Three dollars.”

“Okay, one of those. Plus half a dozen truffles for the road. A random assortment is fine.”

Sophie gathered the chocolates and boxed them up, but left the Misfortune Cookie out on a napkin. She knew it was cruel, but she hoped he would eat it before leaving the store so she could watch his reaction. He didn’t disappoint. Garrett pulled out his wallet and handed her some cash, then grabbed the cookie and took a bite. Sophie watched expectantly, her wry grin growing wider as his pearly white teeth closed around it.

Garrett’s initial reaction was one of calm deliberation. He allowed several contemplative seconds for his taste buds to make sense of the strange new experience. Then his eyes grew as big as tires and his lips puckered wildly.

“Sophie that’s… ,” he sputtered. “It tastes like baking chocolate.”

Sophie scrunched her face into a deliberate pout. “Oh, you hate them. I’m crushed.”

He wiped a piece of the bitter brown from his lip and spit several times into the napkin. “You really sell these to people? I mean, they pay money for them?”

Now, for the first time since he’d entered the store, she flashed a genuine smile. “Isn’t it great? I call them Misfortune Cookies. Only real diehards eat the whole thing. Most people just buy them to read the fortune.”

Garrett broke off another chunk of cookie so he could easily get at the small slip of paper tucked inside. His eyes scanned the message. Then he read it aloud, his voice questioning every word. “
Your job seems secure now, but have patience. Nothing lasts forever!
What is that supposed to mean?”

Sophie shrugged. “Beats me, Doctor Black. I just write them.”

“It’s the most depressing fortune cookie I’ve ever read.”

“Well, buy some more,” she replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll find one that can top it.”

His mouth hung open. “You’re telling me that people come in here just to get fortunes like this? Why would they do that?”

Beaming, Sophie handed Garrett his change. “Yes to the first question, and the jury’s still out on the second. Evi thinks people like them because they’re unique, one of a kind. But my hypothesis is that people just want an occasional dose of reality now and then. Life stinks, you know. It’s as bitter as that chocolate, so why pretend like it’s not, right?”

Garrett stared at her blankly, not knowing quite what to say. “Wow,” he finally managed, exhaling. “I guess Evalynn was right. You really aren’t happy, are you?”

Sophie’s smile disappeared. She looked back over her shoulder to see if her friend was in sight. “She said that?”

He nodded.

She shrugged. “Well, maybe she’s right. I mean, it’s not like I’m sad, and I’m far from depressed. But I don’t know that I’m particularly happy.”

“Hmmm. How long have you felt that way?”

“Oh, don’t go trying to make a diagnosis, Doctor. You’re a podiatrist, remember, not a shrink. Besides, what is happiness anyway? I’d say there’s more than an outside chance that people who claim to be happy couldn’t even answer that simple question. And those that think they know what happiness is are probably just making something up to feel better about themselves.”

Frowning, Garrett shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”

She tucked a loose strand of wavy blond hair behind her ear. “Why not? Look at the world. The things that people attribute to happiness are just fleeting. Take our relationship, for example. You, I, we…
fleeted
. It’s like your fortune said—
nothing lasts
.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

Sophie stared at him, really looked hard at the man on the opposite side of the counter. She hadn’t studied his face like that for a long time. Privately, she couldn’t deny that she still enjoyed looking at him. It gave her butterflies the way he was able to look at her like she was the only other person on the face of the planet. “Then tell me, Garrett. What is happiness?”

He tugged at his earlobe while considering her question. “To me? Hmm. Right now I’d have to say that happiness is being completely honest with the people you care about.”

The comment caught Sophie off guard. She smoothed her apron. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“Meaning that for the past eleven months I’ve been living with a secret, and it’s killing me. I can’t be happy until you know the truth about me.”

Sophie retreated in surprise. “Oh crap,” she gasped. “There’s a
truth
about you? What is it? No, wait! Let me guess.” Her mind was reeling. In the wake of her unceremonious dumping, Sophie had spent countless hours wondering what she’d done to drive Garrett away. But she’d also considered the possibility that maybe there were things he didn’t want her to learn about him, and the only way to avoid that was to leave. Now all those thoughts came flooding back. “You were cheating, weren’t you!” She wanted to cry.