Back to You (4 page)

And… it was painful to look at him. Not only had this place, this house brought back sad memories – but seeing John’s face made the memories rush back even more so.

Chapter 5

GLORIA had arranged for a meeting to go over the interior renovations, first thing in the morning. Sophie had reluctantly agreed to be the ‘official’ Interior Designer; a job which would likely require many hours, and no pay, of course.

But she loved interior decorating, having undertaken all the renovations on the properties she and Marcus had shared; which included three different condos, a country home, and a cottage. That had always been the hardest part in selling a property – saying goodbye to all the hard work she had invested – a part of her was always left there in the wall colors, crown molding and countertops. They had been quite successful at buying and selling property, and had made quite a handsome profit. The country house had been the biggest success, and she wished they could have kept it.

“Why did you have to make it so early, Mom?” she asked Gloria. “I’ve barely had time to make myself look decent,” she pointed out, clutching a cup of strong coffee.

“You look fine, darling,” Gloria assured her. “And besides, who do need to make yourself pretty for…” she added with a wink. “It’s just me and John.”

“Oh mother…” Sophie snapped. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what,” Gloria said, feigning innocence.

“I know you know.”

“Know what?” Gloria asked, keeping up the pretense.

“You know I was smitten,” she scoffed. “I think it was pretty obvious. I could barely string two sentences together yesterday.”

“Yes… it was so obvious,” Gloria admitted. “I was actually embarrassed for you,” she added, half-laughing.

“Thanks, Mom,” Sophie said with a roll of her eyes. “It was actually quite mortifying,” Sophie confessed. “I’ve never acted like that before, Mom.”

“Well... he is quite the looker,” Gloria pointed out. “Oh… if only I was thirty years younger…”

“Mother….” Sophie giggled.

“No, but seriously…you know what a guy like that is?” Gloria trailed off, sipping her coffee. “A panty snatcher,” she added matter-of-factly.

“Mother!!!!” Sophie shrieked in shock. The words coming out of her mother’s mouth definitely surprised her, but that made them no less accurate.

“What? I’m just stating a fact,” Gloria observed. “I may be old… but I still watch MTV.”

Sophie smiled. “You’re not old, Mom.”

But Sophie’s smile quickly faded. “There’s just too much history there, Mom.”

“I know. I know he brings back painful memories, but he’s such a good man,” Gloria insisted. “What I’m saying is… if you never try, you’ll never know right?”

Sophie had no words for her mother. She knew she could never go in that direction. She didn’t belong here anymore. He was part of her past, and he was better left there.

But she could never tell her mother this.

“But still… be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt,” her mother cautioned. “You’re so sensitive.”

“He does scare me a little,” Sophie whispered under her breath.

Gloria laughed. “Just keep your panties on and you’ll be fine.”

***

Sitting at the table, looking over some kitchen design photos, drinking from a steel thermos, John looked great – refreshed even.

Sophie sighed, suddenly self-conscious about the faint dark circles under her eyes. She figured John most likely hadn’t had a tough time falling asleep the night before as she had – incapacitated with lust-filled insomnia.

“These are just a few photos I tore out of my magazines,” Sophie told him. “I have tons more.”

John didn’t speak a word. She remembered his rather quiet nature.

“This is just for inspiration. It’s not set in stone or anything,” she clarified, not quite sure of herself. What was happening? Sophie had always been so sure of herself.

“No… these are great,” John told her. “I like it. I like the feel of it. It’s very soothing… beachy,” he added, glancing her way for a few seconds longer than he needed to.

She wondered if he had any idea what he was doing to her. After pondering the question, she concluded that he probably did.

“What I was thinking,” she went on, trying to distract herself, “…was a rustic-contemporary beach house look.”

“Uh-huh,” John considered the photos further.

“Mixing the rustic with the contemporary,” she elaborated.

“Yep, I got it the first time you said it,” he said quietly.

Well…it’s going to be like that, is it, now?

“What I meant was… I don’t want it be too stuffy or uptight, like some posh places in the Hamptons for example,” she clarified. “This place is not like that… it’s easy-going.”

“You’re right.”

“I just don’t want it to look like a ‘Tommy Hilfiger’ ad,” she explained. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that look. In fact, I did that look in my cottage,” she continued, “very nautical with navy stripes, accents of red, sleek pieces… very modern,” she added, drawing him a visual image.

“And it suited you?” he asked with a smile. “…this stuffy, sleek look.”

“Yes, I loved it.”

“Because you’re a little stuffy and a little uptight yourself,” he teased.

“W-well,” she faltered. “I most certainly am not,” she protested. Was that how he saw her? Stuffy and uptight?

“Well, I can see enough to know you’re stuffy,” he countered. “…and possibly uptight,” he smirked, “but that’s yet to be determined,” he added with a wink.

Her sudden anger almost paralyzed her – he was so darn arrogant.

She bounced up off her seat. “I’m sorry, but I can’t…”

And then, she stormed out.

She couldn’t work with him – he was too damn obnoxious. Where the hell was the sweet John she remembered?

She had always been very good at storming out of a room, but she was not too proud of this recent feeble attempt. It was pitiful in fact – she would have to go back into that kitchen, and perform a proper ‘storming out’ worthy of her name.

And with every inch of her strength and pride, she walked back into the tiny yellow kitchen.

“You think you know me so well,” she started. “You haven’t seen me in about twenty years,” she fumed. “You think you’re so hip with this scruffy, laid-back thing you’ve got going.”

He looked at her, unfazed – possibly even amused.

“It’s not charming… it’s called laziness,” she plowed on. “When’s the last time you shaved anyway?” she asked, not waiting for an answer. “There’s nothing wrong with a little self-pride, a little grooming… caring about how one presents one’s self…” she trailed off, slightly breathless, realizing he was completely enjoying her little meltdown.

She stood silent for a moment, mildly embarrassed.

“Are you done now?” he asked flashing a wide grin – a gleaming white row of perfect teeth – obviously his poor grooming habits did not extend to dental hygiene. That smile of his made her blood boil even more – he thought she was comical – even a bit insane perhaps. She had certainly not been intending on entertaining him.

His smile slowly faded. “I’m sorry… I was just teasing. I honestly didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You did,” she told him, slowly taking a seat at the table. She wasn’t storming out after all.

“Why…” he mused for a second, looking off into the distance, “…why did you let me get to you like that?” he asked. “Seriously… who cares what I think.”

I do.

After a few seconds of silence, she spoke first.

“I don’t know. You just get to me. You stress me.”

“I stress you?” he asked, laughing.

She smiled a little, but said nothing.

“Do you spend a lot of time at your cottage,” he asked, steering the conversation to safer ground.

“I don’t anymore,” she confided. “I sold it after Marcus died. It was more of a boy’s place.”

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his eyes full of sympathy. “Your mother told me about your husband. I’m so sorry.”

She could tell that he meant his words – they weren’t just for show. He still cared about her.

“Once wasn’t good enough…” she said softly, “it had to happen twice.”

They had completely gone off track, and this was a road she wasn’t sure she wanted to go down. But if she knew John, he wouldn’t let it go.

“You still think about him all the time, don’t you?” he asked, his voice soft. “I know I do.”

“I still feel so much guilt,” she confessed.

“You can’t keep beating yourself up about your dad, Snow,” he said taking her hand in his. “It wasn’t your fault. Bad things happen.”

His touch felt wonderful.

“I know. I try to,” she said under her breath. “I still miss him so much. Even after all this time.”

“I miss him too.”

“What the heck’s going on in here?” Jesse asked, popping his head in the doorway. “You’ll wake up the whole neighborhood. Some of us were still sleeping, you know,” he grumbled as he made his way to the refrigerator.

“Good morning, Jesse,” John offered, letting go of Sophie’s hand.

“Seriously, why were you so mad, Mom?” Jesse asked as he grabbed a box of cereal out of the cupboard. “What were you guys arguing about?”

“Your mother seems to think I need a haircut,” John offered with a grin.

“Oh no… not you too,” Jesse snickered. “She always drags me to go get haircuts,” he told John as he poured milk into his cereal. “But I’ve never seen her get that mad before.”

“Apparently, I have a way of getting to her,” John joked, looking at Sophie who had her head buried in her notes.

“Are you working on the kitchen stuff?” Jesse asked.

“Yes, it’s going to be a big job,” John told him. “In fact, I was thinking you could help out.”

“I don’t know anything about that stuff,” Jesse mumbled, spoon of cereal in mouth.

“I could teach you,” John offered. “It’s kind of fun. I’ll be around quite a lot,” he added, looking at Sophie who was peeking at him under her lashes.

“I thought you didn’t get your hands dirty,” she pointed out.

He smiled. “In this case, I’ll make an exception.”

She acted coy. “Please don’t go out of your way for us.”

“I don’t know,” Jesse protested, not seemingly too enthusiastic at the prospect of real hands-on work.

“It’ll be good for you,” John pressed. “It beats playing video games all summer.”

Jesse shrugged. “Maybe.”

John and Sophie spent the better part of two hours discussing kitchen design and layout, paint colors, cabinetry and flooring. And John had to really focus on her words, because he couldn’t get his mind to behave.

Despite his wandering thoughts, he did manage to retain the basics. The old worn flooring would be replaced with knotted wide-planked pine flooring. White paneling would also be installed throughout the house. The walls would be painted sky blue and moss green. The cabinetry in the kitchen would be replaced with antique off-white cabinetry, incorporating some open shelving, and vintage accents. The old cement and stone fireplace would stay intact, as it offered a certain charm to the place.

“What about the kitchen sink?” Sophie asked, looking down at her notes. “It’s kind of neat.”

He had always been amazed by her long lashes – and they hadn’t changed.

“It’s in pretty good shape,” he agreed. “We’ll clean it up.”

She rubbed her forehead. “And the bathroom…” she said with tired eyes. “It needs to be completely redone. Can you handle that?”

The fact that she seemed to doubt his abilities bothered him a little. “I’ve done this a million times, Snow,” he assured her. “Don’t get so stressed about it.”

Yes… he could handle a simple house renovation – that would be the easy part. But could he handle working with her?

John was not finding it easy to remain unaffected. He had planned to have all the power – he had been sure he had her completely out of his system – but he had been so wrong. Getting a date on a Saturday night wasn’t a problem at all – he had his pick of many attractive women who would love his company.

He hadn’t thought he would have any desire to pursue Sophie. All those pesky feelings were coming back to the surface, and he was powerless over them. He didn’t need Sophie.

But he wanted her. As much as he had twenty years ago.

Boy, had he wanted her. The memory almost made him shudder…

John’s blue tuxedo was a little big – a hand-me-down from his cousin. He wished he could fill it out a little better, but he was so skinny – not an extra ounce of fat on him. The faint marks of acne littered his face. Thankfully he hadn’t broken out for prom. His skin was behaving thanks to a strict regimen –
maybe
, he thought,
his days of break-outs were over.

Sophie had agreed to be his date. He knew it was because she was a good friend. But there was a small flicker of hope that she might just like him as much as he liked her. Although, she had been seeing some good-looking jock at her college named Danny – a guy who couldn’t have been more different than John.