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“People know?” Sophie asked. She was taken aback by her instant notoriety.
Brian chuckled. “It’s a small town and everyone wondered who owned this house. It’s been a rental for so many years before the three of you inherited it.”
“Did you know the man who lived here?
Brian shook his head. “As I said, I haven’t been here long, and since he lived here, most of these places have been passed down. New generations have taken over and all that. I’ve asked around, and the only recollections folks have are of renters coming in and out of this place. He was probably here, but they didn’t know him from the renters.”
“I get it. You haven’t seen the Allen girls in town, have you?” Sophie asked.
“No. You’re the first one who has requested keys, and I have identical sets for each of them. I’m not sure if they will call me or come straight to the house. They haven’t called yet, so I doubt they're in town. I’d know because St. Michaels is so small. Before long, you’ll know who everyone is – there are a lot of characters in these parts. Beware of Joy and Peter Wilcox, who are the local welcome wagon. They can be as sweet as a Georgia peach to your face before spreading venomous rumors. Most folks, however, are harmless and entertaining. There are all kinds, from craggy old sailor types to the nouveau riche looking to discover the next hot vacation destination on the Eastern Seaboard. You’ll know the players, and they’ll know exactly who you are,” Brian said.
“I can’t figure out if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” she said. “Thank you for everything, and you’ll have to visit with Bernice. I have a son who recently married, and I have to start practicing before grandchildren come along,” Sophie said. She should have said that he’s been married a while, but she was only recently informed.
With Brian gone, Sophie had time to make some of the phone calls she promised to those she left at home. When she thought of it that way, it was odd because this place felt like home. It was a place she had only entered an hour ago, and it wasn’t even 100% hers. She lived in her parents’ home in Brooklyn, and then she thought she lived in her own brownstone. That was not the case anymore because Roger lived there with his fiancée Cindy, and her office had been turned into a nursery. Sophie bought the house in Hempstead because she needed a place to go after the divorce and had buyer's remorse from day one.
The house on Sandpiper Lane offered the fresh start she was looking for. She wouldn't be thought of as divorced Sophie, who was banished from the brownstone she resurrected. That place belonged on the pages of Architectural Digest, at least it did when she lived there. Cindy had free rein over the home now and probably had tacky taste.
Sophie grabbed her cellphone charger and went out on the deck. She nearly tripped over a set of dog dishes on the way and shouted to no one. “I left my dog responsibilities in New York! No dogs allowed.” Sophie was glad to leave Lindsey behind with Malcolm and Margeaux. She was considering becoming a cat person.
"Hi, Mom. I'm assuming you've made it?” Malcolm asked.
“I did, and I’m glad I came. The photographs I received and those online did not do this place justice. It’s not about the physical house; it’s more about the vibe,” Sophie said.
“Who are you, and what have you done to my mother? When you left here, you weren’t thinking about the vibe but rather your father's life."
“I know, but maybe he knew that seeing this special place would put me and the other girls on the road to forgiving him. They should arrive in a couple of days or so. The architecture of the place is different than at home, and you would appreciate it. Every time I take you to a new city, you have something to say about the architecture. It reminds me of New England, but better. The town of St. Michaels has an adorable town square encircled by restaurants, shops, and bed and breakfasts.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you this happy. It makes my spine tingle. You’re still coming home to Hempstead, I hope,” Malcolm said.
“Yes. I have responsibilities there, like you and my mother. I also have work at Clive’s, which isn’t that big of a deal because he said that he’d see me when he sees me.”
“Mom, I’m twenty-six, and I’m no longer your responsibility. You can kick us out of the house, and we wouldn’t blame you. I’m an adult, and you raised me to be a survivor. My wife is working at an emergency clinic five minutes away while she continues to interview. There are temporary nursing jobs everywhere, and I don’t mind driving. We’ll be able to afford a rental soon. It’s not going to be a fabulous two-bedroom penthouse, but we’ll be happy.”
“I’m so proud of you, and I like having you as a responsibility. I have no doubt you’ll be employed as an architect by the time I get back.”
“Our first child is going to have their nursery wallpapered with my rejection letters,” Malcolm said jokingly. “It’ll teach him or her about resiliency. Oh, and before you ask, we aren’t expecting a child yet.”
“That was going to be my next question. I still have my mom, and if she finds out about my father before I can tell her, she’ll be a mess,” Sophie said.
“Maybe that’s true, but how she handles it isn’t up to you. You aren’t a magician who can control how people act and feel. Give yourself a break and live life for yourself for a change. In the end, Grandma V will be fine. She’s tougher than we give her credit for.”
“I’m sure she is, but she plays the guilt card and hides it from me,” Sophie said. “I spoke with David Fallaci, and he said he spoke with you. He mentioned what a good kid you were, which was no surprise. What did you tell him about me?”
“I assume you spoke to him, too. He wanted anything I could give him, and I told him basics like your age, marital status, and where you worked. It was nothing he couldn’t have discovered on his own.”
“Great, you said I was a divorced, almost fifty-year-old bartender,” Sophie said.
“Please don’t do that. There are enough people in the world willing to put you down. You have to be your own cheerleader. Besides Margeaux, I think you're a pretty spectacular woman,” Malcolm said.
“I’m pretty sure you’re required to say that as my son.” Sophie giggled.
“Not true. I have friends that don’t like their mothers. They love them but don't like spending time with them. It’s not that way with you.”
“Thank you, and please send my love to Margeaux. I underestimated her years ago which was my fault. I had to be suspicious of the woman who was hoping to land my only son. Is Lindsey still alive?”
“Alive and nipping. Dad’s wedding is this coming weekend, so Margeaux and I will be staying in the city. It’s going to be like a honeymoon for us,” Malcolm said. “I have to go. Lindsey heard her name, and she’s heading this way. I don’t want her to pee in the house again.”
“Again?” Sophie shouted into the phone, but it was too late, Malcolm had already hung up.
