Back to You

An old childhood friend.

A beautiful coastal town.

And a clever matchmaking mother.

All the makings of a fun summer romance…

Back to You

Roya Carmen

Copyright © 2012 Roya Carmen

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and locations are either the product of the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales, is purely coincidental.

Prologue

…about thirty years ago.

SOPHIE stepped out of the house and headed down the cobblestone walkway. She glanced behind her one last time to make sure her parents hadn’t noticed her leave.

Eight years old, going on twenty-two, Sophie skipped along the wet sidewalk in her new Sunday dress; a frilly light yellow eyelet-detailed cotton dress she had carefully chosen herself on her last shopping trip with her mother.

A dress like this needed to be seen – and not just at church. And she was making sure it would be, as she headed out for a stroll around the neighborhood.

She looked over at the choppy waves of the ocean as she breathed in the salty sea air. The ribbons in her dark hair swayed in the wind, and the humid air curled her hair a little, which she didn’t mind at all. She walked with a bounce, head high.

But soon enough, Sophie realized not many people were out and about – it was a somber, wet Sunday afternoon, after all. Slightly defeated, she walked down the street, staring down at her new white Mary-Janes.

Such a perfect outfit…wasted.

It was such a shame, Sophie thought; she and her mother had invested a good chunk of time putting the outfit together, selecting matching ribbons for her hair and the perfect frilly socks.

Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted a blond-haired boy rounding the corner on his bicycle. He was smaller than her, but he sure looked like he could handle himself on his bike.

He slowed down when he came her way, trailing circles around her as she walked. She studied him for a while – he was cute, but very dirty – and he sure looked like he needed a good bath.

She hadn’t seen him around before. “What’s your name?”

“John,” he said, “but you can call me Johnny.”

“I’m Sophie… and you can call me Sophie,” she told him with a very serious face. She didn’t have a nickname, and she didn’t want one.

“You have really black hair,” he pointed out, still circling around her. He was good on that bike – better than her, she had to admit.

“You live around here?” she asked.

“Right there,” he pointed to the red house on the ocean – the house her mother always complained about. Such a waste, she would say; such a great house, and such a messy, unkempt yard.

“Do you like my dress,” she asked, not wasting any time. Johnny would be her first admirer, whether he liked it or not.

“Humpf,” he grunted with a shrug of his shoulders.

“It was very expensive, you know?” she scoffed.

“Who cares,” he muttered under his breath before circling around her one last time.

What was it with boys… they were so stupid.

He rode in front of her for a stretch, and looked back now and then. She spotted a mischievous glint in his eyes, and she knew he was up to something… but what?

Just as she was trying to figure him out, tiny brows furrowed, Johnny came back towards her. Then he did another spin with his bike, smack in the middle of a huge filthy puddle in Sophie’s path, splashing her thoroughly.

A perfectly executed stunt – dirty streaks of water covered every inch of her new dress.

And then he flew off on his bike with a quick look back and a cheeky grin.

Sophie stood motionless, teeth clenched – in her eight years of life, she had never been so furious. Tears quickly made their way to her cheeks. She wanted to run, and tear him off that bike, and punch his face, but she would never catch up to him – he was long gone.

But this was
not
over…

Chapter 1

SOPHIE EDWARDS wished her tight pencil skirt and five-inch heels weren’t slowing her down – she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. She cleared her office with as much speed as she could muster, all under the watchful eye of her dreadful boss – or ex-boss, rather. She couldn’t believe he was treating her this way, after all the years she had given to him and his pretentious food & wine magazine.

Who cares about wine and cheese anyway, she told herself as she feverishly packed her personal belongings into a faded cardboard box, trying to avoid the awkward glances from her colleagues through the sleek glass walls of her corner office; people she considered her friends.

But as it turned out, none of them had come to her rescue when she had tried to defend herself against unfounded accusations. Suddenly, they had all been weak… and blind.

She could feel her eyes well up – those pesky tears were going to betray her veneer of poise and indifference. The truth was – she did care. She was angry… and hurt. Yet, she willed herself not to cry – that would be just beyond embarrassing; a grown woman blubbering like a child.

No, she wouldn’t cry.

She left without so much as a sideways glance at these people with whom she had shared most of her waking hours; fifty hour weeks, and often weekends as well.

As she left the offices of
The Gourmet Edge
, she turned around to see the staff still gawking at her, quickly averting their eyes back to their monitors. She cursed the open concept office and its glass walls.

As she neared the elevator, she felt her resolve leaving her, and she couldn’t wait to have a good cry in the privacy of the elevator. But as the doors opened, a young professional man smiled at her politely. But he soon averted his gaze. Staring down at her box of packed belongings, she considered completely ignoring the stranger and letting the tears flow anyway.

The truth was – she did care about cheese and wine. She had been surrounded by that world for the past eight years. In fact, she had become a bona fide culinary snob; having acquired a taste for pretentious wines and ridiculously expensive aged cheeses.

And really, it was so much more than that. The job had been a lifesaver. It had kept her sane in a stressful, turbulent time in her life. And without it, what was she going to do?

As she entered her sleek silver beamer, she thought about her mother. Her mother would probably not be too upset about it; she’d always thought Sophie worked too hard.

And she had to admit this was also an opportunity to set something straight.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to visit her mother – she loved her. And she loved the cool breeze of the Atlantic ocean; the place where she had grown up. But she had consciously chosen to make herself a new life in New York – a wonderful, exciting life, with an amazing, time-consuming job. She didn’t have time to think, let alone think about going to visit her mother. And besides her mother, there was no one back home calling to her.

But not completely in denial, Sophie also realized that she had been making excuses these past years, and there were no more excuses to be made. There were problems she needed to face, and painful memories she needed to revisit – whether she wanted to or not.

***

Sophie called her mother as soon as she got home. She expected her mother to be surprised to hear from her on a weekday afternoon; she wasn’t in the habit of making personal calls from work. She couldn’t wait to let it all out and tell her mother all about her horrible day.

But unfortunately her mother wouldn’t let her get a word in edge-wise.

Sophie had barely said hello, when her mother started. “I’m selling the house,” she told Sophie, with a hint of sadness in her voice.

Sophie couldn’t believe her mother’s words. “But Mom, you love that house.” This was not just a house, it was a home. A quirky, one-of-a-kind home, a perfect little part of the world – the place where she had grown up, the home she had shared with her parents and her brother Ian.

“I know. I love it, but… it does get awful lonely here.” Yes… here was the old familiar guilt trip – Sophie’s mother sure had a way of playing the martyr. “I’m getting older and I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,” she explained. “I’m thinking about a retirement residence where I could meet other people my age.”

Sophie couldn’t deny this wasn’t such a bad idea. She had always hoped her mother would find love again after the loss of her father, almost a quarter-century before. And Sophie liked the idea of her mother getting out more – she worried about her sometimes. Her brother Ian was a few hours away and couldn’t really keep an eye on her.

“There’s absolutely no one in these parts, as you know,” Gloria continued. “Well… with the exception of John Moretti,” she added with a hint of playfulness.  “You remember him?”

Of course Sophie remembered him. He had only been one of the dearest people in her life growing up, her true ‘Best Friend Forever’ Well not the ‘Forever’ part… she had quite literally messed that up.

“Well, of course you remember him… what a silly question,” Gloria was quick to add.

“Wow… does he live around there? Did you see him?” Sophie asked, not able to hide her surprise or excitement. She had heard he had moved away years ago and hadn’t been around since.

“Yes, he pops over to say hello. Sees how I’m doing,” her mother gushed. “He’s been back for two months. His mother died… as you know.”

“No I didn’t know,” Sophie scoffed. “Why don’t you tell me this stuff?”

“You haven’t called.” Oh there it was again – Gloria, at her best.

“He’s also going to do some work for me,” Gloria added with a tone of mischief.

“What kind of work?” Sophie asked, intrigued. This was an interesting little tidbit of info. She mentally scolded herself for not calling her mother more often.

“Renovations… he’s a contractor/landscaper,” Gloria told her. “I was thinking of sprucing up the place… it really needs it. I’m afraid I won’t be able to sell without some renos.”

Sophie couldn’t argue with that. The place was horrendous inside – like a bad flashback to the 1960s. In fact, it was one of the reasons Sophie and her late husband had never stayed at the house when visiting. Marcus couldn’t stand the ‘horrible’, crowded three bedroom cottage. Unlike many people, he didn’t think it was cozy.

“I hope he’s giving you a good price… doing some decent work,” Sophie told her mother, trying to picture what John might look like today. All she could muster up in her mind was the tall awkward teenage boy she knew so long ago, but with a receding hairline and a modest beer gut.

“Oh… he’s great. He’s a sweetheart. There’s no person with a bigger heart.”

Yes… she remembered that – that big heart of his – and how she had stomped all over it.

“Won’t you come and visit?” Gloria asked with that perfected guilt-inducing tone in her voice. “Jesse will be out of school soon, and I would love to see him.” Her mother certainly had a way of pulling at her heart strings.  “And I could sure use some help with the house,” she added. “Your brother is so far away and so busy at work.”

This was the part where Sophie would usually say: ‘But Mom, I have a job too. I can’t just leave it.’

And her mother would say, with a peculiar combination of sarcasm and pride. ‘Yes… I almost forgot… my daughter, the ever so important Editor-in-Chief of
The Gourmet Edge.
’

But now, Sophie didn’t have that excuse.

“I have to tell you something, Mom,” she started, her heart sinking.

“What?” her mother asked, worry evident in her voice, “What is it, sweetie?”

“I got fired today.”

“Oh no,” her mother said softly. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured her, surprised at her words. She actually did feel like she would be fine. She had initially wanted to cry on her mother’s shoulders, but realized there was nothing to cry about. She was going to be fine.

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise,” Gloria said. “You worked too hard at that place.”

She certainly couldn’t argue with that. She did work too hard.

“Maybe you can come home now,” Gloria suggested. 

Sophie didn’t say a word, mulling it over quietly.

“Think about it, Sophie,” Gloria pleaded further.

There were no more excuses. She was jobless. Jesse would be finishing fifth grade in six days. If anything, it would do them good – take their minds off things.

She knew the reason she had been so upset about losing her job wasn’t just the job itself. It was more than that. Her work was, apart from her son, the only thing which kept her sane, which kept her from crumbling into a million pieces.

Her husband Marcus’ death had been sudden and unexpected. And she hadn’t been ready. When she was with Jesse, she put on a brave face for her son and could get through the day. But when he wasn’t with her, the only thing that had kept her in one piece was her work. And two years later, she still needed it.

And Jesse had been dealing with his father’s passing in his own way; acting out and having so many issues at school.

Yes – a vacation would do them both good. Maybe they could even make a summer of it.

“I’ve always wondered why you had to leave in the first place,” her mother added. She had said that before – a million times.

“I just needed to fly away… explore the great big world,” Sophie explained, not being quite truthful.

Sophie had always had the urge, even as a young girl, to explore the world. But it hadn’t been the reason she had pulled from her mother – from everyone – and from John.