In a Book Club Far Away(31)

“I did make food, for real. Not exactly cake, because I figured that would be cruel. But if you wanted a little snack…” Regina said, reading Sophie’s mind. She sashayed toward the kitchen, in full understanding that Sophie was going to follow. Sophie loved food. She also remembered loving Regina’s food.

When Sophie entered the kitchen, she encountered a room that had been turned upside down and inside out. Fresh vegetables decorated the countertop, and plates, cups, and utensils were out, buffet style. A large and a small pot piped tendrils of steam into the air, and the coffee maker dripped the playful song of java being brewed. “Wow.”

“I took Genevieve out for a quick stroller ride—we both needed the break from being indoors—and the farmers market was today. Which, by the way, was interesting. Random moms with kids also in strollers stopped me because they recognized Gen but not me, and all of them expressed some kind of disappointment about her canceled party. There was one woman I recognized in the Genevieve binder. Her name’s Missy, and she’s a real estate agent. Did you know that Adelaide stages homes for fun? She’s been working for free.”

“She didn’t say anything about that.” Sophie shrugged. “But Adelaide mentioned the party. It made sense to cancel it.”

“I know…” Regina’s voice trailed off. “Except I feel bad about Gen not having a big to-do. You remember how grand her first birthday was. Adelaide set up a Pinterest board to public view just for it.”

“Not our decision to make. She’s the mama.”

“Right.” Regina sighed. “You’re right. Anyway, I thought I would make a quick vegetable soup, and then decided, I might as well make a meat sauce for pasta tomorrow. The soup’s ready, and I picked up a baguette and sourdough bread. Want some?”

The question wasn’t whether Sophie would be able to eat, but if she would eat with Regina. While at the moment, Regina seemed amiable, they both were undeniably on shaky ground. But Sophie’s tummy twisted with warning that she would soon be hangry, so she said, “Sure. All of it, please.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Regina busied herself getting a bowl together while Sophie slipped into a seat at the round antique kitchen table, surrounded by three different chairs.

Sophie examined them carefully. One was painted blue, one red, one white, with areas sanded down to the wood grain that made them look vintage and kitschy.

“Do you remember those chairs?”

“Hm?” Sophie looked up; Regina had her back to her. “They do look familiar.”

“We picked them up on the side of the road that one day, on one of our flea market trips, er, the flea market trips we tagged along on. Remember?”

“Wait.” Sophie frowned. “The free ones?”

“Yeah, I recognized the curve of the back in the chair you’re sitting in. It looks like a heart.”

Sophie turned in her seat and ran a hand over the wood. “They were gross, covered in soot.”

“I know, right? Not anymore.” Regina half laughed. “We could barely get them into that tiny car she had.”

“I think I still have a bruise from one of the chair legs that dug into me during the hour ride home.”

“It was a gorgeous day. I remember riding with the windows down. We had an argument about Fifty Shades of Grey.”

Sophie was taken back to the moment. Deployment had been underway, and loneliness and worry hovered in the background. The moments of laughter, of making plans about what to eat after their shopping trip, and then the book talk—her body softened at the recall. “I thought that there was something missing in Fifty Shades. People like what they like, and I’m not going to yuck their yum, but I was looking for more in terms of affection, you know?”

“I saw it differently. Grey showed affection in an unconventional way. Not every person shows love and commitment in the same manner. I mean, if anyone should know that, it’s you.”

Sophie frowned but didn’t bite. This was a standard, straightforward answer from Regina. She guessed that caterers didn’t get the same lessons on empathy as nurses did.

But, apparently, Regina wasn’t done. As she served the bowl of soup, she stuttered. “Wh-what I meant was that you and Jasper obviously were able to circumvent traditions. Look at the both of you, being partners for almost two decades, totally outlasting most marriages. You barely showed any PDA, and yet, your love is stronger than any I know. Anyway, who am I to say? I’m divorced and have a crush on an internet friend.”

“Internet friend?”

“It’s nothing.” Regina straightened. “Wait. Before you eat… can I take a picture?”

“Uh… okay?”

“It’s for my catering company’s page. Technically my manager’s taking on social media while I’m away, but this soup ended up so pretty, especially on Adelaide’s Fiestaware.” Regina was already in the process of tilting the phone and snapping several photos in sequence. Sophie waited patiently—she would never admit it but she followed Regina, though not officially, on social media, and she loved her food photos.

“How’s that going?” Sophie asked, testing the waters. “Your business?”

“Fine. Good.” Regina’s answer was curt, and as she thumbed the screen to post, she said, “All right. It’s all yours.”