Cari Webb - The Charm Offensive

Sophie hugged Ella. “Have fun today.”

Ella gripped Charlotte’s elbow and the group of girls headed toward the buses, a flurry of excited chatter. Sophie waved to Ella’s teacher and Ella’s aide before she rushed down the sidewalk, heading toward her morning appointment. She had to find her money and save their home. And soon.

Her father had to be in serious trouble. She’d always believed she was free from his shady tactics. That she was somehow different to him, and darn it if she didn’t need to feel special, even for a moment, to someone. One time in her life.

No, she didn’t need to feel special anymore. She’d craved that when she was a child. But she’d outgrown the feeling the same way she had outgrown her craving for cereals with marshmallows and stars and good-luck charms.

Sophie stepped inside the law offices of Evans, Hampton, and King, leaving the pigeons on the sidewalk to peck away at her impractical childhood wishes.

Kay Olson waved at Sophie from behind the reception desk and slid off her headset. Kay tweaked her gray hair back into place. She’d been Sophie’s first customer for her dog-walking business a decade earlier. Kay’s hair had been gray even before cancer took Sophie’s grandmother and Kay’s childhood best friend, and before her daughter, April, became pregnant with twins.

Kay’s silver pixie cut was like battle armor, a spiked shield she wore to deflect the mess life seemed content to keep throwing at her. Her shield allowed her to believe in something better. Kay wasn’t expecting a pot of gold at the end of her rainbow—she was more of a realist than that. Sophie wanted some of that same inner-battle armor, though, to forge through her latest roadblock.

“Before you ask, I sent April home to bed.” Sophie unzipped her coat. “If you have the sponsorship check for the gala, I can take it and let you get back to work.”

“Let’s talk in here.” Kay pointed across the hall. “You can sample the pastries from Whisk and Whip Pastry Shop. Everyone agreed last week the Whisk is the city’s best.”

Sophie followed Kay into a small conference room that might have been bright if not for the fog crowding against the wall of windows. “I promised April I’d head over with the laptop and we’d work on the gala table seating so she still feels included.”

“April didn’t want to listen to the doctor.” Kay thrust her fingers through her hair, tightening the spikes. “She never wants to listen to any opinion that differs from her own, including her mother’s.”

“She’ll do what’s right for her babies.” Sophie walked to the windows that looked out over a park, but the gray mist had swallowed the swing set and slides. Mothers had a duty to do what was right for their children. Yet Sophie’s own mother had failed, and her sister struggled to put Ella first. Motherhood for the Callahan women was like standing inside the fog and never seeing the children’s little hands reaching for them. Sophie feared if she became a mother, she’d get lost in the fog, too. And that would be unforgivable.

“Well, the father needs to be told. That’s what’s right.” Kay smacked her palm against the table and released a sigh tinged with frustration. “But we don’t need to have this conversation again.”

“I’ve tried to ask April about the identity of the father, but she refuses to talk about what happened.” Sophie searched the fog for the metal curve of the swing set. She’d wanted to help April, seeing so much of her sister in the lost woman. Even more, she’d wanted to help Kay, to give back to the woman who’d given Sophie direction and purpose so many years ago. “I’m not sure I’ve been much of a good influence on her.”

“Nonsense,” Kay said. “April wants to keep working at your place. This is the longest she has stuck with anything. She claims she needs the Pampered Pooch and the four-legged customers to keep her calm.”

“She’s wonderful with the animals, especially the injured and newborns.” Sophie turned her back on the park and leaned against the window ledge. “She’ll be a great mother.”

Kay remained quiet and eyed the silver pastry platter in the center of the table. She began transferring the pastries back into a medium sized bakery box. “She isn’t you.”

“I’m not that special. I do what needs to be done. April will, too.” Sophie remembered feeling desperate and unsure, but she’d found her way, with the help of Kay and Ruthie. “You raised her right.”

“I raised her.” Kay set a croissant in the center of a napkin. “Did my best. Questioned everything. Second-guessed every decision.”

“Now you can second-guess your decision to be called Gigi or Nana or Grandma.”

Kay smiled. “My grandbabies are coming.”

“They are,” Sophie said. “There’s no second-guessing that.”

April Olson was having twins, ready or not. The pregnancy might have been unexpected, but everything since that test stick turned pink had been expected, even April’s reticence to reveal the father’s name. No one stole away in the middle of the night against the advice of family and friends only to return a year later and reveal all of their secrets. Sophie and Kay had eventually discovered that April had been in LA pursuing her music career. The prescription stuffed inside April’s jacket pocket for rest and hydration for severely bruised vocal cords was from a physician with an East Hollywood address. This was the only clue as to April’s whereabouts during her eleven-month disappearance. Other than that, April had offered few details.

Kay leaned back in her chair and looked at Sophie. “What will you do without April?”

Sophie let April keep her secrets and April never pried into Sophie’s secrets. There was a trust between the women. Now Sophie didn’t have April. She couldn’t hire and train another person fast enough to take her place. Not to mention, a full-time employee would expect health benefits. Employee health care was supposed to be part of Sophie’s plans after she’d paid off the loan. And after the gala happened, which was supposed to help raise awareness for the rescues and fosters at the Pampered Pooch that desperately needed homes. Sophie smiled, but the tension throbbing in her head was hard to ignore. “Make it work.”

“You’ve got the gala to organize.” Kay pulled the end off the croissant. “And Ella to care for.”

“I’ll shift things around. I knew this was coming. It’s my fault for not planning better. Sooner.” But she had planned. Except she’d never planned on her father betraying her and ruining everything. “I didn’t come here to whine. We can do that over Sunday dinner.”

“I didn’t bring you in here to stall, either. It’s not like me.” Kay crumbled the pastry into tiny flaky crumbs.

Kay had never been a stress eater; rather, she destroyed food when she was worried. Sophie eyed the mangled croissant. “Okay. Now I’m nervous.”

“I don’t have the sponsorship check.”

“That’s fine.” And it was fine. Perfect, actually. Kay hadn’t announced something that Sophie couldn’t handle, like she had cancer or was moving out of state. Sophie would need to call her vendors and adjust the payment schedule, but she’d sort it out. She dropped into the high-backed leather chair across from Kay. “I can get it Monday.”

Kay leaned forward and squeezed Sophie’s arm. “I won’t have a check.”

“Won’t. That’s different.” Sophie set her elbows on the table, refusing to wilt into the chair. She was starting to hate expensive soft leather chairs. First the bank. And now here. “What happened?”

“I’m not entirely certain.” Kay crushed another bit of croissant into the napkin.