She’d known she’d lose the car—so why did this make her feel sick? “I wonder how they found it.”
“I asked. They said they stopped by the police station.”
“And Chief Stacy told them.”
“He’s a prick. We already know that.”
She drew a deep breath. There was no reason to get upset. She’d worked things out so far; she’d get through this latest setback. But did it have to happen on Thanksgiving?
“Thanks for letting me know,” she said.
He nodded. “So...can I give you and Lex a ride over to the DeBussis? Would that help?”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll have them pick us up. No need for us to impose on a holiday.”
“I don’t mind.”
But Eve probably would, and she didn’t want him to know she wasn’t really going to the DuBussis’. “Really. We’re fine,” she said and closed the door.
“Who was that?” Lex asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes as she stumbled into the hallway.
“Ted.”
“What’d he want?”
“You’re going to have to ask your grandma to pick you up.”
“You can’t take me anymore?”
Sophia drew a deep breath. “The car’s gone.”
“Oh, no. That means you’ll be here all day and you won’t be able to go anywhere.” She sighed as she used her fingers to comb through her tangled hair. “I won’t go to Grandma and Grandpa’s. I’d rather stay with you.”
“Are you kidding? It’s been weeks since you’ve seen them. And your uncle and cousins will be there. Go have fun. I’ll be fine. I can spend the time catching up on my sleep.”
She rolled her eyes. “That sounds about as much fun as saying, ‘I’ll spend the time throwing up with the flu.’”
Sophia laughed in spite of her repossessed car. “Sleep sounds wonderful to most adults. You’ll understand when you grow up. Besides, I don’t have a turkey to bake or anything else to feed you for dinner. What will you eat if you stay here?”
“I’ll eat whatever you eat.”
Now that her Mercedes was gone, Sophia had no idea what that would be. Although she hadn’t told Alexa this, she’d been thinking about going to Sacramento to visit her mother. She figured that if she could marshal the resolve, they’d eat the special Thanksgiving feast prepared by the cafeteria—or she’d go out and bring something in, if her mother had a special request. And if it went well, if she felt encouraged, maybe she’d start taking Alexa over for regular visits. Skip hadn’t been willing to expose his daughter to Elaine, but now...things were different.
It all depended on how her mother behaved. Sophia couldn’t take Alexa back there if Elaine insisted on acting inappropriately, as she so often did since succumbing to her disease. “I’d rather you went, really.”
Still unconvinced, Alexa shuffled over and gave Sophia a hug. “Are you sure you won’t come with me?”
She’d rather stick a fork in her eye. “I’ll have a better time here, promise.”
“Okay...I’ll call Grandma.”
Sharon said she’d come, but asked if Alexa could stay the night. Because the cousins were also staying, and Sophia felt Alexa needed a night to just forget and have fun, she agreed. By two o’clock her daughter and Ted were both gone and Sophia had the whole place to herself.
She called her mother, hoping for a small glimmer of recognition—anything that might connect her with the positive memories she had of her childhood. But Elaine was so drugged she barely said anything. When she did talk it was to claim that she had spiders and snakes in her bed.
At her mother’s insistence, Sophia spoke to a nurse, just so she could convince Elaine that she’d done all she could to make sure there were no spiders or snakes—but she already knew there wouldn’t be. Her mother had been having the same delusion for years.
25
When Ted ran home to get something he’d forgotten for Thanksgiving dinner and found a box of cold cereal sitting on his dining room table next to a bowl and a spoon, he knew something was up. He hadn’t had cold cereal that morning—or any morning the previous week. And he certainly hadn’t eaten it by candlelight. Yet the candle that Sophia had bought for his romantic dinner with Eve several weeks ago was on the table, as if whoever had eaten that cereal had tried to add a little celebration to it.
He walked over and turned the box toward him. Golden Crisp—recently opened.
The candle smelled as if it had just been extinguished and the wax was still warm. He doubted a burglar would break in to eat Sophia’s favorite cereal over candlelight on Thanksgiving afternoon, which meant she’d probably done it. But why? Why wasn’t she at the DeBussis’?
He heard the murmur of a female voice coming from the direction of the kitchen. Sophia was in the house, all right. She was talking to someone. Alexa? Their plans must’ve fallen through. Or maybe, like him, they’d forgotten something—some ingredient they knew he wouldn’t mind their taking from his pantry—and somehow come back for it. He’d returned for a bottle of wine—a Napa Valley pinot grigio that was his mother’s favorite, which he brought to Thanksgiving every year. He couldn’t believe he’d driven off without it this morning, but he’d been distracted by the repossession of Sophia’s car and trying to make sure he wouldn’t be late when he picked up Eve. Then there was his dilemma over the pumpkin dessert Sophia had given him. He knew his mother wouldn’t even try it, not if she guessed—and she would—that Sophia had baked it, so he couldn’t take it to dinner. He couldn’t leave it in the house where she might find it, either, or share it with Eve’s family. So he’d eaten what he could in his car, dumped the rest in the garbage behind the liquor store and put the pan in his trunk before he reached his girlfriend’s.
At least that dessert had been good—one of the best he’d ever tried. As far as he was concerned, his mother had lost out because of her attitude. Already, he regretted disposing of what he couldn’t eat and wished he’d figured out a way to save it for later.
“Hello?” he called.
There was no answer, but as he headed down the stairs, he recognized Sophia’s voice. She wasn’t talking to Alexa. And she wasn’t in the kitchen. She was sitting on the steps leading down to his wine cellar, talking on her cell phone. If Alexa was around, she didn’t seem to be in his house.