Chapter Six

 

Chapter Six

            By the time school started back up, things had returned to their normal state between Oliver, Sophie, and Jillian. With her parents' renewed love for one another, Sophie was starting to feel like a stranger in her own home. Her friends were the only people with whom she felt comfortable. Then one day after school she came home to an eerily quiet house and silently thanked God that no one was around to continually ignore her – as they'd been doing for weeks now. Brian, she expected that of. She was glad for that. But she couldn't believe that her own mother would do that to her.

            On the way up to her room, she heard noises coming from inside Brian's office. As she inched closer, the door flew open and he stood before her.

            "What are doing?" He demanded.

            "Nothing," she replied quickly, looking down.

            "Snooping is not welcome in this house," he sneered, brushing past her.

            In the room she saw her mother holding a tape measure across the wall.

            "What's going on?" Sophie asked tentatively, hoping for a glimmer of what their relationship use to be.

            Molly glanced at her. "Oh, hi honey," she said absently. We're taking measurements of your father's office."

            "What for?" Sophie asked.

            "For the baby. This will be the nursery." She turned her back to her so that she could continue her measurements.

            Sophie stared at the back of her mother's head. "Baby?" She repeated. "You're pregnant?"

            "Not yet. But I will be. Soon enough."

            Sophie breathed a small sight of relief. "Oh."

            "How was school?" Molly asked, walking toward the windows and testing the locks.

            "It was good," she replied, thinking of her teacher spilling his coffee all over the class's pop quizzes before they were supposed to take them. "Actually, the funniest thing happened – ."

            "Good news," Brian interrupted, as he burst into the room.

            Molly turned around. "What is it?"

            "I got us a table at Marcello's for tonight."

            "Oh, goody!" She exclaimed, kissing him – s sight which turned Sophie's stomach. "Did you talk to Sylvia?"

            "Who's Sylvia?" Sophie asked, feeling lost and left out.

            "She's an interior designer," Molly replied. "We're having dinner with her tonight to go over some ideas about the nursery."

            "But you're not even pregnant yet," she pointed out incredulously.

            "That's exactly the kind of negativity we don't need," Brian said irritably. "Besides, don't you have any homework to do?"

            "Yeah," she replied, looking down. "I was just talking to Mommy for a minute."

            "God Sophie, can't you see how busy we are right now? It isn't always about you."

            She didn't reply this time, only looked to her mother, who simply stood there, a shell of her former self.

            "Sorry," Sophie said. "What time should I be ready for dinner?"

            "Anytime you want," Brian said. "Our dinner reservation is for three people, and it's a grown up meeting. I'll leave you money for pizza."

            "Oh." She tried not to let her voice crack. Losing Brian as a father was something she could get over. After all, he was the one who had made her 13^th birthday so memorable. But losing her mother was a whole other thing – they'd been so close before. Did she really care so much about having a baby and rejuvenating her marriage that she had to forget all about her first child, the daughter of her dead husband?

            "You can run along now," Brian said. "Go do your homework, Sophie."

            She reluctantly retreated to her room, where she lung herself onto her bed and cried into her pillow. She cried for her mother, who'd never be the same. She cried for herself, because her happy family was no more. Not since her step-father had brutally stolen her innocence away from her.

            She ended up falling asleep and not waking until well after dusk, as the phone on her nightstand rang relentlessly.

            She reached an arm out from under her comforter and picked up the receiver.

            "Hello?" She said sleepily.

            "Sophie?" Oliver said urgently. "Jeez, I've been calling you for hours. Are you okay?"

            "She sat up, switched on the lamp, and focused her tired eyes on the alarm clock: 7:30.

            "I must've fallen asleep," she yawned. "Sorry."

            "That's okay. I would've come over, but my mom made me do my homework after dinner."

            She smiled. "It's okay, Ollie."

            "What are you doing now?" He asked. "You can come over, if you want."

            "I don't know," she replied. "I still have my homework to do, and then I have to order some dinner."

            "Order some dinner?" He asked. "Why – where are your mom and dad?"

            "Out with some decorator," she replied, annoyed with them all over again, now that she was fully awake and could recall the conversation that had taken place just hours before.

            "Well why don't you just come over here?" He suggested. "You can have leftovers and I'll help you with your homework."

            She hesitated. "Are you sure?"

            He laughed. "Shut up and get over here. Do you want me to come get you and walk you over here?"

            "No, no I'll be fine."

            "Okay – see you in a few."

            She replaced the receiver and gathered her books. As she headed for the front door, she caught sight of a 20 dollar bill on the hallway table. Next to it was a note that read, in Brian's messy scrawl, for dinner. Be home late. She shoved it into her pocket, feeling a small sense of satisfaction in taking advantage of him.

            As she walked to Oliver's house, she took out the bill, ripped into several pieces, and scattered them on the ground. She didn't want the money – it meant nothing to her – but to destroy something of Brian's gave her a shred of happiness. After all, he'd destroyed something of hers last summer.

           

When she got to Oliver's, his mother opened the door, looking prettier and brighter than ever.

            "Hi, sweetie," she greeted Sophie cheerfully. "Come in, come in."

            "Hi, Mrs. Chase," Sophie replied, stepping into the marble-floored foyer.

            ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Charlotte laughed. "Don't be so uptight, Sophie. You're like family. Make yourself at home."

            "Quit smothering the poor girl," Oliver's father joked from the living room.

            Sophie poked her head in. "Hi, Mr. Chase."

            He looked up from the documents he had scattered on the coffee table. "Please, sweetheart, you know it's Alan to you. Don't make us feel so ancient."

            She laughed, immediately relaxing. "Sorry, Mr. – er, I mean, Alan."

            Charlotte smiled. "Oliver's up in his room – and your dinner's waiting for you up there too."

            "Thank you," Sophie said, truly grateful. She couldn't help but wish the atmosphere in her own home was as loving and light hearted as this. Of course it had been once, but it seemed those days were over.

            As she hurried upstairs, Charlotte turned to her husband expectantly.

            His pleasant smile slowly faded away. "It's a shame," he said.

            "I know,' she agreed. "Molly is one of my closest girlfriends, but I've never seen this side of her in all the years we've known each other."

            He shook his head. "Does having a baby really mean so much to her that she has to completely neglect her firstborn?"

            She sighed. "At least she has our Oliver."

           

Sophie opened his bedroom door and, as always, immediately felt as ease.

            "Hey," Oliver said from where he was seated at his desk. "Hungry?" He held up a plate of food.

            She dropped her books onto his bed and accepted the plate. "Starved," she replied and sat down on the floor to eat.

            "When you're done, we can start on your homework," he said, watching her eat as if she hadn't eaten in months. "But take your time."

            She laughed between bites of chicken parmesan. "Sorry – I didn't realize how hungry I was. And thank you Ollie. I would've been so miserable at home."

            "You don't have to thank me," he said. "I love being with you."

            After she finished her dinner, they sat together on his be to work on her Algebra.

            "So," Oliver couldn't help asking, "do you want a girl or a boy?"

            She looked at him. "Huh?"

            "You know," he said. "Do you want your mom to have a boy or a girl?"

            "Oh." She shrugged. "I don't really care. "And, thank God, she's not even pregnant yet."

            "You haven't even thought about it a little?"

            She put down her pencil. "No, not really, Oliver. The thought of my mom and my dad doing anything that would make them have a baby is just gross. So I try not to think about it."

            He laughed. "Okay, okay." He fiddled around with his calculator. "Anyway . . ." His eyes remained on the small plastic keys. "Are you going to the Halloween dance next month?"

            "I don't know," she replied, returning to the equations. "Probably not. Are you?"

            "Maybe," he said mysteriously. "But I was thinking . . . maybe we could . . . I mean, maybe we could go to –."

            "Have you talked to Jillian about it?" She asked suddenly, finally looking up.

            He frowned. "No – why would I?"

            She shrugged. "Maybe you guys could go together."

            "I don't want to go with Jill," he said patiently. "I want to go with you."

            "Oliver," she groaned. "You know I just want to be friends. Why ruin it?"

            "I don't understand," he said, leaning back against his headboard. "Everything was so great this summer. You kissed me, Sophie. And then all of a sudden . . ." He shook his head. "What happened?"

            She looked down. "I don't know," she lied. "I guess I just realized that we're better off as friends."

            "I don't believe you," Oliver said. "I know that sounds stupid, but I just don't. It doesn't make any sense."

            "Well it has to," she replied. "Because that's just – that's just the way I feel." She struggled to keep the tears from escaping her eyes, and kept them down cast. Because she knew that if he saw her face, he'd know for sure that she was lying.

           

            The Halloween dance came it went with neither Jillian, Oliver, or Sophie attending. They instead opted to spend the evening together at Oliver's house, eating pizza and watching scary movies. And when Sophie got home, well after eleven, she was surprised to find both Molly and Brian still not there. They had gone to a party with Jillian and Oliver's parents, but she'd never known them to stay out so late.

            Though oddly enough, Sophie wasn't too disappointed to be alone. She was getting quite used to it. On the way to her room, she stopped by the nursery – or, at least what was going to be the nursery. She hadn't seen the inside of it for awhile since Brian was being extra anal about how it was going to be decorated and who saw it and when.

            She gasped, surprised to find it only a shell of its former appearance as an office. The walls were painted a pale yellow and even though various debris and furniture littered the room, she could see how good it was going to look. Her eyes fell on a rocking chair and an acoustic guitar propped up against it.

            She scoffed. She vaguely remembered her mother talking about taking guitar lessons so she could sing to the baby – whenever it was conceived and eventually arrived, that is. Sophie knew that probably wasn't going to turn out well, as Molly was the most tone-deaf person she knew. She was about to leave when he curiosity go the better of her and she slowly walked to the guitar.

            Last year she'd learned a bit of guitar playing in music class and still remembered some of the basics. Carefully, she sat down in the chair and placed in the instrument across her lap. And, which a deep breath, Sophie began strumming a few chords and soon it began to eel natural.

            Very slowly a smile crept up into her face. It was comforting, this music, and it made her feel good. For once, she could find some sort of comfort when being alone. For once, she wouldn't have to constantly be consumed by her memories.

            By the time school ended, Brian and Molly still had not succeeded in conceiving a child. There had been several false hopes, but still no baby. That did not, however, stop them from trying continuously. Sophie had long since grown disgusted with the whole situation and was more grateful than ever for the comfort of Oliver's house. Since she'd been spending more and more time there, she and Oliver had even begun playing guitar together while she sang – albeit slightly off key – from the notebook of lyrics she'd been composing. It felt so much better to vent her feelings through music than to silently seethe over Brian.

            Then, a few days after school let out for the summer, Sophie came over to find Oliver holding up a guitar case with a big red bow on it.

            She smiled. "What's that?" She asked, uncertainly.

            "Your birthday present," he replied. "I know it's early, but I figured you could really use it this summer." Until now she'd been sharing Oliver's guitar, which was aging and had been his since about the first grade, when he's taken lessons for a year and then given up.

            Sophie's smile widened as she accepted the case and gingerly set it down to open it. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble," she said, though when she saw the guitar she knew she'd never give it up. Made out of a beautiful red oak, it shined against the black velvet of the inside of the case. A black guitar pick was lodged between the strings and ..r inspection, Sophie saw that it had her initials painted on it.

            "Oh, Ollie!" She cried, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck. "This is the best present anyone's ever gotten me!"

            He blushed. "Even better than the charm bracelet?" He asked with a smile.

            She laughed, playfully pushing him. "Don't make me choose!"

            He laughed. "Well that guitar wasn't cheap, so you're gonna have to pay me back someday," he joked.

            She smiled, enjoying the game. "Oh yeah – how?"

            He stepped closer to her. "With a kiss, of course," he said, a bit more seriously.

            The smile vanished from her lips. "That's not very funny, Oliver."

            "I don't understand," he groaned. "Why can't we just be together? Just for the summer at least."

            She closed the guitar case. "You're one of my best friends,' she said. "And I would never want to ruin our great friendship."

            "But we wouldn't be ruining it!" He insisted. "We'd only be making it better. Trust me, Sophie. You know you can trust me."

            "I do trust you," she said, wishing he would make this easier on her. She would've liked nothing more than to say yes to him, and be his girlfriend. But she knew she could never let him touch her, and she knew she'd never fully trust him as her boyfriend. How could she after what had happened the last time she put her trust in the hands of a man? "But I want you to trust me too," she added. "And this is just best for us. Please, Ollie, just leave it at that."

            He stared into her beautiful green eyes as he'd done countless times before, and couldn't say no to her. And if he couldn't have her as his girlfriend, then he'd settle for best friend. But he knew that someday she would crack. And when that day came, he would still be ready to love her.