In a Book Club Far Away(13)

Adelaide gleamed. “I agree. Great!”

As the party died down, Sophie stood and made her way to the kitchen, straight to the sink, where cold water called to her. Above the squeak when she turned the faucet handle, she heard, “I wasn’t sure what to expect from book club, but it wasn’t this.”

She turned and saw Regina. She was pouring herself another glass of wine.

“What did you expect?” Sophie asked her.

“I dunno. Academic? Stuffy?”

“Stuffy?”

“Yes. I guess it’s what I first think of when someone says ‘book club.’ To be honest I was worried about how everyone was going to act. I didn’t want to lampoon myself since I’m not much of a reader. And working and playing in the same place where you live… it can get intimidating.”

“I haven’t had that experience.” Sophie noticed a drop of wine on the kitchen counter, so she grabbed a napkin and wiped it up. The act gave her a moment to focus her words before discussing something that had been bothering her. “I quit my job a month before I moved here—I’m an RN and worked nights, and me and my coworkers… we bonded through our meals, in our break room.” She smiled to herself, bringing back the memory of last Christmas, when the break room table was a buffet. “It improved our work because we became a team.”

Regina’s gaze dropped. “Yeah, it’s not quite as friendly where I work. Not to say that I don’t have good people working with me, because I do. But I’m not sure the Army’s my forever career. I think I want to do something else. I guess I don’t feel that… umph.”

Sophie was intrigued. She leaned on her elbows. “What do you want to do?”

“If you’re asking about my dreams? Something with food. I haven’t really figured it out. But it doesn’t matter. It’s not what I want to do, really, but what I have to do and should do,” Regina said. “I’m sorry that you had to quit your job. It sounds like you loved it.”

“I did.” Sophie shrugged. Because what else was she supposed to do? Complain? Every person in the book club had had to give up something to be there. So she changed the subject. “Anyway, you make a good book clubber.”

“Thanks. I mean, I can definitely drink wine. And I promise that next time I will actually read the book all the way through.”

“It thrills me that there will be a next time.” Adelaide walked up, shaking the glass in her hand for a refill. “Just sweet tea, thanks.”

As Regina poured tea from a pitcher, the sugar wafting into Sophie’s nostrils, Adelaide continued.

“I wanted to catch y’all before you both had to go. I want to thank you for—” She gestured toward the direction of the guest bath.

“Oh my goodness, it’s nothing,” Sophie interrupted. “It’s you who I have to thank. For inviting me.”

“Well, of course, we’re neighbors.”

“But… because I’m not officially”—with her fingers she made air quotes—“‘a spouse.’”

Adelaide frowned and understanding flitted across her face.

Sophie continued, compelled to explain. “You don’t have to defend the institution or tradition. I get why I’m left off a lot of the invites. And the ID card process. And medical and health care. We knew not tying the knot had its consequences. But the hardest by far is just not being included in things like this.”

“I’m sorry. It’s a shame if you ask me.”

“It’s fine,” she said, because that’s just the way it was. “That’s all to say, I appreciate this.”

“This was something, wasn’t it? Just like you both were something to me earlier, helpful without being judgy. It’s admittedly always tough to find new… people to get to know. We should go for coffee. Something? Our husbands work together. We’re steps away from one another. What do you think?”

“Sure,” Sophie answered right away. In ten years, she learned there were a few things she never turned down: the flu shot, meals from neighbors or friends, and the first friend dates at new duty stations.

They both looked at Regina. Her eyes widened. “Me, too?”

“Yes, you!” both Sophie and Adelaide said. At the surround-sound answer, they laughed.

“Okay, then.” Regina raised her cup. “May the odds be ever in our favor.”

Sophie cracked up again and lifted her glass. “Indeed.”





CHAPTER EIGHT

Regina




Regina was out of breath as she turned the corner to her apartment building. Her heels clacked against the sidewalk, and the sounds of the other book clubbers, all ducking into their own buildings, faded away. It was a little after midnight, and the moon was high, illuminating the empty street. Lush greenery swayed around the buildings, and she relished the feeling of the tepid wind against her skin. In her experience, this weather wouldn’t last long. Upstate New York had two months of mild weather to ten months of chill and snow, and her time outside would soon constitute wearing cold-weather gear and her nose hairs freezing.

But right now, right now was perfect.

She couldn’t stop smiling.

She passed Baby, parked perpendicular to the front sidewalk of the building and patted the hood. The car was her lieutenant mobile and had been a mess when she’d picked her up years ago, and most of her butter bar—or second lieutenant—salary had been spent fixing and maintaining her. That, and her growing collection of cooking gear—all of which Logan had beef with, but she digressed. Regina loved Baby because she was a diamond in the rough. She was a symbol of what could come with a little bit of work. She was also 100 percent Regina’s, purchased by her outright, without a loan attached to her.