“Too bad there aren’t three,” she mumbled.
“What’s that?”
Heat crept up her neck and settled onto her cheeks, forcing her to turn sideways. She could blame the crisp air, but Denver wouldn’t buy it. “Nothing.”
“Soph?”
Scanning the immediate area, she saw Caroline offering her sugary treats to Tillie. Ryder hammered a couple of boards together on the other side of the garage. All of them much too far away to save her. “I just wish I had some special talent, you know? Some dream of my own to pursue.”
Denver set the saw and gave Sophie a warning nod before he sliced through the two-by-four. He stacked the measured board in one pile and the scrap board in another. “Soph, you don’t want to be a chef. That wouldn’t make you happy.”
“I know. I just wish I knew what would.” The question had haunted her all day. She wanted to be more than just a single mom doing her best to survive. The marathon would help with her confidence, but what else would she have to show? She’d wasted so much of her time with Blake, content to live the lifehewanted that she never had a chance to figure out what she did.
“Let’s brainstorm. Like we do with Malcom.”
“Oh, no.” Sophie shook her head. “That won’t work.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” Sophie shoved her hands in her pockets, wishing her daughter or Tillieor anyonewould save her. “It’s so much easier to talk about a fictional character. The only limits they have are ones their author gives them. This is . . . real life. It’s a lot more complicated.”
Denver cut and measured another two boards, giving her a moment of reprieve. She wanted to accomplish something meaningful, but she couldn’t even manage to rent a house for her and Caroline. She’d given in and answered when Jolene called for the fourth time today. No matter how she crunched the numbers, without that monthly stipend the rental was too much a strain on her budget. It seemed pointless to rent a house if she had to pick up another job to afford everything that came with it.
It took a bit, but then Denver suggested, “Let’s pretend you’re a fictional character, then.”
“What?”
“One of the persons of interest in Malcom’s case, say. Someone he needs to interview about a murder. What would make that character more than just your average human? What would make her interesting?”
Sophie was touched that Denver was putting so much effort into helping, but it was pointless. Finding a dream wasn’t something that could be brainstormed. It had to be born in the depths of her soul. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but it’s not going to work.”
“You haven’t even tried—”
“I have future competition, I see,” Tillie announced to Sophie as she and Caroline came over. “Those lemon bars are phenomenal. I’d ask for the recipe, but I have a feeling the two Whitmore chefs want to keep their secrets.”
Sophie let out a hidden sigh of relief for Tillie’s interruption. Denver meant well, but brainstorming her life would not solve anything. She’d have to figure this one out on her own. Sometimes she felt selfish for wanting more. What she was doing got them by, and though she was eager to have her own bed and give Caroline her own room, they still had a solid and safe roof over their heads, surrounded by family who loved them. Maybe that should be enough.
“I thought I might have Caroline help me get dinner on the table. It’ll still be about an hour before we’re ready to eat. Mind if I borrow her for a while?” Tillie asked, hands on Caroline’s shoulders. Her daughter’s eyes sparkled with excitement. The only thing she loved more than moose was being in the kitchen.
“Not at all. Caroline, you listen to Ms. Tillie, okay?”
“I will!”
“Great!” said Tillie. “Sophie, if you’re up to it, there’s a pair of gloves over there. Why don’t you give Denver a hand with these? He’s got a whole pile of them to cut. Today we’re focused on building our framework.”
“Of course.”
Once Tillie and Caroline were out of earshot, Denver shrugged at Sophie. “I’m sorry she roped you into this. Cutting a bunch of two-by-fours isn’t exciting stuff, and not exactly your favorite pastime either.”
Sophie slipped on the gloves and rolled up her sleeves, ignoring his inquisitive stare. Denver knew she hated this stuff. “How else will I ever figure out what I want to be when I grow up if I don’t try new things? Now, show me how to work this contraption.”
“Soph—”
Ignoring the pleading in Denver’s tone, she picked up a board, never a fan of building things. The only reason she hadn’t failed her shop class in high school was because Cadence helped her on her final project. This was simply something to keep her busy so she didn’t have time to shatter into pieces. “What do we do with this one?”
“Soph, What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Let’s keep working. Looks like there’s lots to do before dinner.”
