Hank sat and finished his coffee for a good twenty minutes after she’d left, thinking of what Sophie had said. Had he really been so oblivious to the pain she’d been carrying around inside?
Truth be told, he never thought of her father when he thought of Sophie. He’d forgotten all about Mitch Jacobs even being related to her. He’d been the town drunk. A wastrel, his mother had called him. He didn’t think anyone had really connected him to Maggie Jacobs and her girls. Mitch was rarely ever seen with his family.
And the night Mitch had driven off the mountain, Hank had been away at college. By the time he’d come home for spring break the gossip had mostly died down and it had been mentioned as an afterthought. But obviously it wasn’t an afterthought to Sophie. She was still living it, as if it had just happened, and the pain was still very real.
He took enough cash out of his wallet to cover the bill and the tip, and then he put it under the edge of the plate so it wouldn’t blow away. He knew what he needed to do, even though she’d probably already gotten a dozen phone calls telling her about his breakfast meeting.
He needed to go see his mother.
ChapterFour
By the endof the day, Sophie’s temples were pounding and her eyes were pulsing.
She shouldn’t have let her anger get to her. It wasn’t like her. She’d spent her life tamping down thoughts and reactions where her father was concerned. But the last couple of days had been a lot. Between the offer for the bookstore and her mother’s bombshell of moving to Florida, conversation about her father had just been the icing on her emotional cake.
She stared at the large flower arrangement on the counter and felt the guilt creep up. Whatever Hank was, he hadn’t deserved how she’d treated him. And she’d been more than surprised when the delivery man had come in with the flowers. They were beautiful and lush, in shades of yellow and pink and purple, and she knew every one of them was out of season and had probably cost a fortune. And somehow she’d known that they were from him even before she’d opened the card attached.
The card had been handwritten and was short and to the point.
I’m sorry,
Hank.
The bell tinkled above the door and she snapped out of it, waiting to see who’d just entered. But the store was empty of customers.
“That’s the last one,” Cori said, locking the door to the shop.
Cori had worked in the bookstore for several years, even before Sophie had taken over from her mother.
“That’s everyone?” Sophie asked.
“The last,” Cori said. “And not a moment too soon. You’re asleep on your feet. Mrs. Crawford finally stopped asking you who sent the flowers after you ignored her for the third time.”
Sophie winced and rubbed the back of her neck. “Maybe I was asleep. I’m not sure I even noticed her come in.”
“Which is hard to do,” Cori said. “She’s got a voice like a freight train. Why don’t you go on home and let me lock up? I can see that headache all over your face.”
“Oh, no,” Sophie said. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“I’m not alone,” she said, looking at Sophie like she’d grown a second head. “Kevin is still here. He’s finishing putting out the stock upstairs. He and I can leave together. We’re heading the same way.”
“I thought Kevin was off at five?” Sophie asked.
“He decided to stay and finish the stock after Freddie called in sick,” Cori said, looking concerned now. “He told you that.”
“Right,” Sophie said, vaguely remembering the conversation. “I need a nap. I haven’t slept well the last couple of nights.”
“You need more than a nap,” Cori said, bundling Sophie into her jacket and zipping it for her like a child. “You need some hot tea, a hot bath, and a solid twelve hours. And no wonder.” Cori grabbed Sophie’s bag from under the counter and put it on Sophie’s shoulder before shuffling her toward the door. “You’ve been burning your candle at both ends. Then with the news about your mother. I can imagine you’re a little overwhelmed. You should leave the flowers here. You’ll get to enjoy them more.”
“But I need to?—”
“Nope, you don’t need to,” Cori insisted. “I’m opening tomorrow and Kevin will be here to help. I don’t even want to see you until after lunch. You can catch up on errands, do some Christmas shopping, or eat ice cream from the carton and stay in bed. Your choice. But you do no one any good if you can’t even stand up on your own two feet.”
Sophie knew what Cori was saying made sense. And it was hard to think about anything with her head pounding like it was. Maybe she had a fever. She was feeling rather flushed. But there was no time to be sick. She had to figure out a way to get the money she needed so the city didn’t shut down the bookstore.
“You don’t look so good,” Cori said, worry knitting her brow. “Your eyes are kind of glassy. Maybe you don’t need to walk home.”
“I’m fine,” Sophie said, and unlocked the door of the shop herself. “I just need some sleep. I’m going home.”