“Love you, too, Mom.”
And then I was alone in the silence with only my questions for company.
* * *
I didn’t have to ask my sisters to weigh in, as it turned out. Each of them texted me the next day, giving me their take on the situation.
Diana:Mom told me about Sophia. Listen, Harry, Sophia is AMAZING and she is perfect for you. Grab her up now before someone else does and you have to live knowing you missed out. Love you, bub.
Hanna:I’m sorry about everything that happened, Harry! <3 The whole thing with Faith, etc., that sucks. But hey, Sophia is so great. We all love her. But I hope you’re okay. See you on Thanksgiving.
Camille:Being single is not a bad thing, little bro. I love Sophia, too, but don’t rush into anything. You’ve got plenty of time—you’re young. <3 you.
If all of their input wasn’t enough, Vivian stopped by a day later, little Gus strapped into some kind of backpack thing, only it was on her front. She stood in the kitchen, dancing around to keep him asleep.
“I knew from the first time I met Sophia that you two were meant for each other, Harry. I just hoped you realized it before it was too late.” She glared at me. “It’s not quite too late, but it’s getting close. Man up. You haven’t broken her heart yet, but she’s close to it.”
I appreciated all of the helpful comments, but in the end, the decision had to be mine, and as I saw it, I had to choose one of two paths. Neither of them would be easy. I had to either completely cut myself off from Sophia, end our friendship and move on with my life alone, or I had to take the plunge into the unnavigated waters of friends who were now . . . in love. There wasn’t an in-between, because we’d come too far to go back to beingjustfriends. We couldn’t pretend that we didn’t know the truth about each other.
Come to think of it, I wasn’t even sure that I had much say in what happened next. I could go to Sophia and beg her forgiveness, ask her for a second chance, but there was every likelihood that she’d kicked my sorry butt to the curb now. Why would she take another chance on me, especially if she still had the wonderful Zeke in her life?
Despite what my mother had said, I was still half-expecting the answers to rain down on me. I got up and went to work during my normal shifts—and I had to be on the ball there, as we were moving into the crazy holiday season at breakneck speed—but when I returned home, the same questions were there waiting for me.
The Sunday before Thanksgiving, I lay in bed, drowsing in the state between awake and asleep. I hadn’t yet decided if I should show up at Sophia’s house today. Vivian had told me that Friendsgiving was still going on as planned, and technically, I hadn’t been uninvited. But my presence might be more uncomfortable than welcomed if Sophia was still mad . . . and if I hadn’t decided what I planned to do next.
I sighed, and my mind drifted back into a half-dream that was a memory. It was years ago, during the first holiday season I’d known Sophia. We’d driven down to the small town of Celebration for the so-called snowfall. On the hour in the evenings, the town square pumped out ‘snow flakes’—bits of soap that, while they were in the air, vaguely resembled snow. There were Christmas lights and carols and the smell of gingerbread floating in the air. It had been magical.
Preston had been meant to go with us, but he’d had to bail at the last minute. I couldn’t remember exactly why now, but in the end, it had been just Sophia and me. We hadn’t known each other too long at that point, and so we hadn’t developed that easy camaraderie that had come later. There had still been between us a little mystery.
Sophia had never been to the Celebration Christmas Square, and she had gasped in delight as we’d walked around. “Oh, Harry, this is amazing.” She’d laughed, spinning as she stood in the faux snowfall. “Thank you so much for bringing me.”
I’d stood next to her, watching the joy in her face, and something had shifted in me. In that moment, that brief, stolen flash of time, I’d imagined holding her close to me, standing together by a Christmas tree, secure in the certainty that we belonged to each other, not just now but forever.
And then that moment had passed, and I’d forgotten it, until now.
My eyes opened wide, and suddenly, there wasn’t a decision. There wasn’t a choice. Everything was crystal clear, and I knew what I had to do.
8
It was actually cold as I got out of my car and walked to Sophia’s front door. November in Florida could be a crapshoot; it might be fifty, or it might be eighty. Today was clear, sunny and in the low sixties. It felt like Thanksgiving should feel, I decided. I hoped it was a sign.
I was an hour early for Friendsgiving, but I knew that I had to talk to Sophia before everyone else showed up. If things didn’t go well, I’d be gone before the others arrived. If Sophia forgave me . . . well, I wasn’t certain what came next, but I had hopes.
The truth was that I’d never been so nervous in my life. It had taken me forty-five minutes to figure out what to wear, even though I’d eventually settled on jeans and a green T-shirt with a big turkey picture on the front, thinking maybe it would make Sophia smile.
Trying to keep my hand from shaking, I knocked on the door and waited, my heart in my throat.
A few moments passed before Sophia opened the door. When she did, I took a minute to look at her, to see her with eyes that now understood so much more. She was a little more dressed up than she usually was; her long, flowy skirt flirted with the tops of her flat shoes, and her short-sleeved top clung to her soft curves. I realized that if I had a type, Sophia was exactly it.
She stood there, her hands holding tight to the knob, staring up at me, her eyes somber and unsure.
“Hi.” I cleared my throat. “Could I come in?”
She gave that request more than just quick thought, but finally, she nodded and stepped back.
The small living room was decorated for Thanksgiving, and a long folding table took up most of the open floor space. I noted with a sinking heart that it was set for five.
“I was going to ask if I was still expected for dinner, but I guess that answers my question.” I pointed at the place settings. “Five people. Vivian, Charlie, Preston, you and Zeke.”
