Considering his good deed done for the day, Wes moved back inside but lingered by the door and peered around. It was truly a beautiful house, but for the past hour or so there had been a breath of life added to it that transformed it into more of a home. Now that Sophia and Collin were gone, the quietness had a heavier quality to it than before.
His eyes caught on the two overstuffed cream sofas with gray and pale-green pinstripes. Neither piece of furniture had ever held a guest—not even Wes—and only emphasized the loneliness trapped within the gray walls.
Shaking off the desolate notion that was his reality, Wes moved over to the table to clear away the dishes. He then made his way into the guest room to straighten it. As he shook out the blanket, a toy car toppled to the floor.
It had taken well over a year into his heartache before Wes learned how to outrun his grief, but something as unassuming as a toy car could still derail those assiduous efforts and cast him right back into it so deeply he felt for sure he’d die of suffocation. Three years suddenly coiled back and sent him to his knees.
Clutching the toy to his burning chest, Wes gasped for air. Air he didn’t deserve. Air that should have been filling his wife and his own son with life. Air that he begged God to take from him so he wasn’t left behind without them.
5
Mahogany . . . endless mahogany. Sophia perused the bookcases, the clunky desk chairs and side tables, until focusing on the desk sitting before her. Everything was in the same glossy shade of mahogany.
“Ms. Prescott,” Mr. Billingsley greeted as he hurried into the office, bearing a thick folder and a grim expression. “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet with you any sooner, but Mr. Prescott’s attorney hasn’t been very cooperative.”
Sophia stood, straightened the navy tailored jacket that matched her trousers, and accepted the portly man’s hand. She shook it firmly enough to convey confidence, just as her dad had shown her long ago before she was to meet the governor after winning first place in the middle school governor’s essay contest. That was a nervous yet exciting day for her. Too bad her current day was just filled with nervousness. Nothing exciting was to come of it if Mr. Billingsley’s demeanor was any indication.
“I understand,” Sophia said, even though she didn’t. She didn’t understood anything. She didn’t understand why she was caught up in the middle of Ty’s financial fiasco since they were divorced. And she definitely didn’t understand why Weston Sawyer had been hospitable on that wretched day last week when she’d made this discovery. But in the days since then, she had willed her thoughts to stay focused on making an IOU list for the groceries and other necessities that her parents had provided, rather than trying to figure out Weston’s kindness and quietly showing up in the midst of an awful moment to help her. It was just lunch and a place to rest, but it had been so much more.
“As of now, we’ve managed to free up your severance from Southeastern, and I advise you to keep a portion in cash on your person and open a new account for the remainder of it.” Her attorney made a grunting sound as he sat behind the desk and began flipping through the file, bringing her attention back to him and the absurd situation. “As for alimony and child support, I’m sorry to tell you there’s no clear indicator when you’ll have access to those funds. It all depends on how the other attorneys proceed.”
“That’s better than nothing, I suppose.” Sophia gave him her most proper smile and head nod as she signed off on the thick stack of documents he slid to her side of the desk.
“I’ve included in your folder recommendations for an accountant. It’s imperative that you do everything by the book, because the IRS will definitely be keeping an eye on you for an indefinite length of time. We have proof that you filed individual tax returns for the last two years, so you shouldn’t be implicated in your husband’s misconduct.”
Once Mr. Billingsley went over the documents and provided her copies, he walked her to the back exit.
“Thank you again for agreeing to meet so early.” She hitched her purse onto her shoulder after fishing out her keys.
“I understand your need for discretion in this situation. You have my card. Don’t hesitate to call if any more reporters show up.”
“I will. Thank you again.” Her careful smile detoured into a frown as she stepped outside and into the thick blanket of fog that looked as heavy as her thoughts. A cursory glance around found no reporters or photographers lurking, so she hurried over and loaded up into the SUV. Thankfully, it had been purchased outright with cash.
At least it won’t disappear into thin air like my marriage, my career, my money, and my dignity . . .
Sophia rotated her neck, hoping to get rid of some of the pressure, and cranked the SUV. Before she could back out, the Bless This Mess van blocked her in.
“Err! Not today, Opal,” she mumbled and refrained from beating her head against the steering wheel.
Opal wrenched the passenger door open. “Hey, chick!”
Sophia stared at her blankly, not feeling up for pleasantries. “Are you following me?”
“No, silly. I knew you had an appointment.” Opal leaned inside.
“Well, I did and now it’s done, so—”
“I have an appointment too. I need you and Jo to go with me. She’s already in the van, so hurry up.” Opal snapped her fingers.
The only appointment Sophia wanted to be a part of included her bed with the curtains drawn tight. It was Monday, after all. Yet it looked like she wouldn’t be getting her wish. “I can follow you.”
“No, no, no. Just hop in with us. That’ll give us some Sand Queens time.”
Sophia heaved a frustrated sigh, knowing her friend wasn’t going to back down. “As long as you have me back here within an hour.”
“We should be able to make that happen.” Opal closed the passenger door and skipped back to her van.
Sophia gathered her purse and looked heavenward. “Please, Lord, give me strength.”
Ten minutes later, Sophia decided God wasn’t in the strength-giving mood.
“No.” Sophia said the one word with enough terseness that the subject should have been closed, but Opal patiently stood by the open van door and tried coaxing her out.
“But this is all good things. Promise.” She tugged Sophia’s arm.
Sophia yanked her arm free and remained seated. “Opal Cole, you’re up to something.”
“Just come inside.” Opal gestured toward the side entrance to Carolina Pediatrics.
“But Weston Sawyer will be in there.” Just saying his name made a wave of humiliation ripple over Sophia’s already-sensitive nerves.
“Of course. He is the doctor.” Opal laced her fingers with Sophia’s and finally got her out of the van and to the building entrance.
Agnes Nelson let them in and then locked the door behind them. That was when Sophia realized the place wasn’t even open yet. Before she could voice her concerns, Agnes said, “If it isn’t the lovely Sand Queens.” The older lady gave each one a hug and then led them to her office. “Lincoln and August are already inside. Go ahead in and I’ll be right back.”
Sophia caught Josie’s eye and mouthed, “What’s going on?”