In a Book Club Far Away(79)

She logged into her email first. One was from Missy Stanfield, one of her mommy friends. She was a real estate agent and Adelaide had staged a few homes for her, just for fun.

Subject: What do you think?

Hi Adelaide!

I know you’re tied up with your surgery, and I sure hope I’m not bothering you while in the midst of recovering. Because if I am, then by all means you have to get off this email now, young lady. But if and when you are up to it, I’d love to follow up about what we discussed earlier, about you maybe working for me part-time? You were the first person I thought of. Give me a buzz whenever? I promise to only take a few minutes of your time! I still do want to stop by to bring over a present for Genevieve like I mentioned last week. I know you’ve got your best friends there, but I bet they can’t make my cream puffs. I’m just saying!

xo,

Missy



Adelaide laughed. Missy always had a way about her. She didn’t hide her ambition, and with her, Adelaide felt creative and energized. Unfortunately, Adelaide was also going to have to disappoint her. It didn’t make sense for Adelaide to accept a job knowing she would eventually have to let it go. They were due to move after Matt returned from Germany, and preparing for a PCS was a full-time job.

At the thought, Adelaide’s chest ached with what felt like heartburn. Her next thought was to shut down her negativity. Moving was an inevitability in the Army. But dang, did she love it here in Old Town. It was a nice change from all the small posts they’d lived in. She felt at home in the DC metro area, more than other places. In Old Town, she felt like she could blossom.

Was it normal to feel so young in your midthirties? She was just starting to feel good in her skin. Having to start somewhere new always put her on the outskirts, and with that came insecurity, over proving herself to others and sometimes to herself. And unless she knew someone from another duty station, making friends, even for an extrovert such as herself, was hard. It wasn’t the superficial meet-and-greet moments that she worried about, but the tearing down of her walls, and the exposure of herself that rendered her vulnerable.

Would she allow herself to get close to people this next time around? How much investment would she put into this community before having to pick up and start over elsewhere? It was a fuzzy line to toe.

She just wished sometimes…

She cut out the thought before it came to fruition. And instead, she pressed reply:

Hi Missy,

I’m doing well, thank you. But one of these days I’m going to have to tell you the entire surgical ordeal. I would love to see you, soon, and while I cannot have your cream puffs (much too rich for my blood, and not in a metaphorical way—my lack of a gallbladder means my belly just won’t be able to tolerate all the delicious cream for a little while), I do want you to come over soon! As for the job offer… I’d like to chat about it in person.

Best,

Adelaide



Her reply came quickly:

I bet we’ll chat later. ;) Talk to you soon!

M.



Adelaide pondered Missy’s odd response.

The sound of fast-moving footsteps took her attention, and at the sight of her beautiful daughter entering the room, the rest of the world shrank in importance. Adelaide opened her arms to greet Genevieve, and her baby girl rushed into her arms. Genevieve felt bigger, heavier, and it sparked a sad nostalgia of time passing much too quickly for her taste. “Hello. Do you know what today is?”

Genevieve giggled, a little bit of drool pooling on the sides of her lips. “My birthday!”

“Yes, it is! Mommy just needs to go somewhere with Auntie Sophie, then I’ll be back and we can have cake.”

“Cake! Mr. Henry!”

“What?” She half laughed and looked up to her friends, who hovered by the living room doorway.

“Is that his name?” Sophie turned to Regina.

“Okay, okay, so I kind of showed her their Instagram feed.” Regina tapped on her watch. “But more on that later. You all should go.”

“Yep. You’re right. Thank you.” Adelaide heaved herself off the couch.

The doorbell rang.

“Lemme get that!” Regina jumped and spun away.

Once alone, Adelaide said quietly, “What the heck’s up her butt? She’s being really weird.”

Sophie cackled.

That, too, was weird.

From the door came the sound of a man’s deep voice, then the shuffle of feet. A figure appeared at the doorway, a person so familiar, though Adelaide could not place him. He was Black, in his forties. Fit. Clean-shaven and bald. He was wearing jeans and a gray long-sleeved Henley. He carried a small gift bag with one hand, and held a small plant in the other. A cactus.

Next to Adelaide, Sophie breathed out his name. “Jasper.”





CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Sophie




“What are you doing here, Jasper?” Sophie asked after she kissed him on the cheek. He’d handed her the cactus, and she gripped the side of the pot with force.

Was she dreaming?

“Now, if that isn’t a welcome, I don’t know what is,” he said, face crestfallen. He turned to his left. “Adelaide.”

Adelaide hugged Jasper. “Oh my God, I didn’t recognize you right off the bat. Talk about a blast from the past. Matt’s going to be so jealous when I tell him. Anyway”—she bent down and directed her daughter by the shoulders—“we’re going to leave you two for a few minutes to catch up.”