A Walk Down the Aisle

She put her palm to her cheek, on the spot where he’d kissed her.

That was it. The last time they’d ever touch, and the only thing that had ever come close to hurting as much as that moment they’d taken her daughter from her.

Yesterday, she’d touched her daughter for the first time ever when she’d run her finger across Tori’s cheek. Today she’d touched the love of her life for the last time.

The enormity of both moments would stay with her forever.

She wanted to crawl into bed and spend the day crying about Colton, but she couldn’t. She had Tori to think about.

Her baby girl.

All these years of worrying and wondering.

And Victoria Peace Allen was here in Valley Ridge.

Even though her parents would take her home this afternoon, Sophie had seen her. Touched her. She knew that Tori was loved and she’d been cared for.

Sophie knew her decision to let the Allens raise her daughter had been the right one.

In one hour she’d see Tori again.

The knowledge wasn’t enough to assuage her pain at losing Colton, but for now, Sophie pushed the hurt back. Compartmentalizing was something she was an expert at. Someday she’d pull out that last scene with Colton. She’d replay it and allow herself to feel it. But not today. Today Tori had to come first.

Sophie sat at the table in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in front of her, and watched the clock.

A half hour before she was supposed to meet the Allens, she got up and walked to the diner.

The Valley Ridge Diner looked as if it came out of a scene from Happy Days. Vintage Formica tables, a jukebox in the corner and Hank Bennington behind the counter, a coffeepot in hand. “How are you, sweetheart?” he asked as she walked past him.

Sophie knew that he wasn’t asking because of the canceled wedding. There was no sympathy or hidden question in his greeting. Hank had Alzheimer’s. It was in the early stages, and some days were better than others, but she suspected he’d forgotten about the ceremony, just as he’d forgotten her name again.

“I’m fine, Hank,” she said. “I’m going to take the back booth. I’m waiting for some visitors.”

“You help yourself to whatever seat you want, darling. I’ll bring you coffee.”

The diner was virtually empty. It was too late for most of its breakfast crowd, and too early for the lunch crowd. The only other customer was Marilee from the MarVee’s Quarters. It was odd to see her without her partner, Vivienne. They had a Penn & Teller sort of relationship; they were almost always together, and Marilee did most of the talking. Today she was talking to Connie Nies, who worked for Colton at the winery.

Both women looked up as she walked by. “Sophie, we’re so sorry,” Marilee said. “I’m not asking what happened, but if there’s anything you want us to pass on, we’d be happy to.”

Knowing that any news of note tended to filter through Marilee and Quarters, Sophie considered a moment, then nodded. “Two things would be helpful. You could let everyone know that Colton and I have decided to call off the wedding permanently. And you can let everyone know that it was my fault. I don’t want to go into details, but Colton deserves everyone’s sympathy.”

Marilee patted Sophie’s hand. “Sweetheart, I will definitely circulate that, but as much as I love Colton, everyone knows it takes two to make a relationship work...and two to make it fall apart.”

“Maybe in most cases, but not this time. This time, it’s all on me.” She turned to Connie. “You keep an eye on him when you’re working, okay? He’s so busy in the summer, he sometimes forgets to take care of himself.” She’d planned on being the one there to see to it that he did. She’d planned on making sure he ate a balanced diet, not simply coffee and sandwiches on the go.

Her plans had popped like a bubble yesterday. “Thanks,” she said, and fled to the back of the diner. She sat down at the back booth, and thought about all the things she’d planned that would never happen.

And no matter what Marilee said, she knew it was completely her fault.

Hank brought her back a cup of coffee as Gloria and Dom came in. “Let me get a couple more cups,” Hank said.

“I hope you don’t mind, but we asked Tori to give us a half hour before she arrived.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Sophie said. “It will give me a chance to assure you that I will do whatever you both want. If you prefer I not communicate with Tori, I understand. I—”

Hank came back with two more coffee cups. After he poured Dom’s and Gloria’s, he asked, “Are you all ready to order?”

“We’re waiting for one more person, Hank,” Sophie said. “So, in a half hour or so, after she’s arrived.”

“Great. I’ll check back with the coffee.”

“Thank you,” Gloria said to Hank, then turned to Sophie. “Tori let us know in no uncertain terms what she wants. We spent a great deal of the night discussing what to do.”

“You might not have noticed, but Tori is slightly strong willed,” Dom said with the right hint of sarcasm.

“That’s an understatement,” Gloria muttered, taking a sip of her coffee as if to fortify herself, then jumped in. “I called the police department this morning. And spoke to some officer named Dylan?”

Sophie nodded. “Yes. He’s a good guy.”

“And he assured me that you’re not a felon. In addition to that, he gave me a glowing report on you as a person. He swears you’re one of the good ones. He talked about how you stepped in and helped when some woman named Bridget passed away this last winter?”

“Bridget was my first friend here in Valley Ridge. I met her at the grocery store. Her daughter Abbey wanted cookies, and when Bridget said no, Abbey had a bit of a toddler temper tantrum. Bridget came over and said, ‘Talk to me, please? I need to ignore my daughter’s outburst, and if you would make a bit of a fuss about the other two kids and how well they’re behaving, she’ll come around.’

“So, I knelt down and talked to Zoe and Mickey, asked them about school and praised their good grades and, eventually, Abbey came over and told me that she’d colored a cow and could she give it to me? Later that night, they all walked over to present me with my cow picture—which by the way looked like two ovals with four sticks for feet—and I went for a walk with them. After that, well, Bridget was one of my best friends in town. When she got sick, her friend Mattie came home, and Lily, who’s a nurse, came to care for her, and the three of us became friends, too. It helped having someone to rely on when Bridget passed.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Dom said.

Sophie blinked back tears, knowing that if she started crying over Bridget, she’d start crying over Colton, over the fact that the life she’d planned and longed for was gone.

“Thank you,” she managed.

“Dylan said the three of you practically lived at Bridget’s while she was sick,” Dom said.

Sophie wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement, so she simply replied, “She was my friend. And the kids needed all the support they could get.”

Gloria nodded, as if that explained everything. “If you cared that much about a friend and her children, I can’t imagine that you wouldn’t be as careful with my—our daughter.”

“Your daughter,” Sophie corrected. “I meant what I said last night. I get that Tori is your daughter. I gave birth to her, but she’s yours.”

“Listen,” Dom said, “my wife and daughter laugh that I’m a hippie. I tell them all the time that my parents were the hippies, and I was only a kid who went along for the ride. I grew up on a commune, and there was this woman I called Mama Rose. She ran the kitchen, and when the adults were out, she watched over all the little ones. I loved her. All the kids did. We all loved her, and I still send her a Mother’s Day card every year. But that never changed the fact I loved my own mother and father. I knew who my parents were, even though I loved Mama Rose. My aunt, who is not, nor ever was, a hippie, asked my mother how she could stand that I loved Mama Rose, and my mother laughed and said, ‘You can’t run out of love. There’s always enough to go around.’”

“I like that saying.” Sophie nodded, understanding what he was saying. She repeated, “You can’t run out of love.”

Dom nodded. “I like it, too. I want you to understand that we’re not worried Tori will forget we love her, or that she loves us.”

Sophie glanced at Gloria and her expression wasn’t quite as assured as Dom’s, but Sophie understood that. Sophie was Tori’s birth mom. She suspected having her in the picture was harder on Gloria than Dom. “I’m glad, because I might have given birth to her, but I never held her when she was sick, comforted her after a bad dream. I never hugged her after a hard day of school, or celebrated after a good one. I’d be happy to have a part in her life, but it can never be as her mom.”

Something in Gloria’s expression relaxed. “I’m glad you want to a part of her life because she’s demanding that she be allowed to spend time with you this summer and swears if we don’t, she’ll run away.” Gloria’s voice dropped. “Tori might have a way with anything mechanical, but I will have nightmares for the rest of my life about what could have happened when she stole the car and drove here. I can’t live through that again.”