“The best,” I tell her. “A friend’s coming over to help me eat this cheese.”
As usual, getting the kids to bed takes longer than I think it should, and I don’t have time to tidy the house before Sophie knocks on my door.
“Sorry about the mess,” I apologize, scooping one of Liam’s toys off the floor as I lead her to the kitchen.
“It’s fine,” Sophie replies. “My condo usually looks worse, and I don’t even have kids. Is your husband out?”
Right. She thinks Troy and I are still together.
“I’m divorced, actually,” I say casually. “My ex-husband still lives in Toronto. He was just here because my Claire had appendicitis.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sophie says quickly. “I didn’t realize.”
“It’s all right, you couldn’t have known. I didn’t exactly make an effort to stay in touch.”
“That’s okay,” she says. “I didn’t either.”
“White wine okay?” I ask, pulling a bottle from the fridge. “Or I have coffee, tea, diet Coke, apple juice . . .”
“White wine’s great,” she interrupts with a grin. “How’s your daughter doing? After the appendicitis?
“She’s good, thanks.” I hand Sophie a glass of wine and pour one for myself. “Pretty much back to normal now. Luke Carlton did her surgery, actually.”
Sophie almost chokes on a sip of wine. “No way. That must have been awkward.”
She has no idea.
“Not really,” I lie.
“That’s good.” Sophie’s gaze is skeptical, and I’m pretty sure she knows I’m lying.
“I probably shouldn’t ask,” she says hesitantly, playing with the stem of her wineglass. “But I always wondered what happened. With you and Luke.”
Since ten years have passed, I guess there’s no harm in telling the truth. “Long distance was hard,” I explain, “and then Luke chose to stay in Somerset for med school, rather than coming to Toronto. I still had another year of undergrad there, and I was planning a Master’s.”
Sophie’s eyes widen.
“He said it was because he’d have more opportunities in a smaller program,” I continue. “But he’d always wanted Toronto before, so I knew he was trying to end things.”
“But Luke didn’t—” Sophie says, then trails off.
“Luke didn’t what?”
She hesitates. “Luke didn’t seem like the type to care where he went to med school.”
I can tell that’s not what she was initially planning to say, but I decide to go with it. “That’s exactly what I thought. I figured he was too much of a gentleman to break up with me, but by staying in Somerset, he was sending me a message. We had a high school relationship that ran its course, and it was time to move on.”
“Maybe,” Sophie says thoughtfully.
“I almost forgot, I bought cheese and grapes.” I jump up and set to work preparing a plate of snacks. And just in case Sophie doesn’t realize I’m desperate to change the subject, I add, “we’re celebrating tonight, because I got a job.”
“Congratulations!” Sophie exclaims. “Something in tech?”
“Teaching math, actually. At Brookline Academy.”
“How posh,” she teases, as she cuts a big wedge of brie and puts it on a cracker. “Good for you. I didn’t know you were a teacher.”
“Oh, I’m not,” I say quickly. “But someone took an unexpected medical leave, and they were scrambling. Apparently not many women can teach high school math, but the principal seems to think I can.”
