"You look mean."

"Sorry about that."

"Why are you here?"

"I came with your daughter. We used to date. You don't remember?"

"I don't have a daughter," she said as if she was tired of hearing otherwise and didn't want one, regardless.

He had to wonder if she'd convinced herself that Sophia didn't exist because it eased the pain of those moments when she came back to "herself" and remembered everything she'd lost. Or if she really believed, consistently, that she was childless. Maybe it would be just as difficult for Sophia, possibly more difficult, if Elaine remembered and begged to be released from the facility. He winced when he considered how helpless he'd feel if it was his mother in here.

"You do," he insisted. "Her name is Sophia."

"I like that name," she said.

The door opened as Sophia returned, and he shoved the See's Candies toward Elaine to distract her. He didn't want her to say anything else about not having a daughter-or that she liked Sophia's name as if she'd never heard it before. "Maybe you'd enjoy one of these."

She knocked the box aside-almost onto the floor-and cast a longing glance at the vending machine. That was when Ted decided it was time to give up. He'd done what he could. This was heartbreaking to watch; he couldn't imagine what it was doing to Sophia. He'd meant to help, but he was afraid he'd done the opposite. He hoped it wouldn't send her back into a tailspin.

"We'd better get going or we'll run out of time to find you a car," he told her.

He was planning to take her to an AA meeting before they went home, but when he put a hand at her back to propel her from the room, her mother stood up and said, "Don't go!"

The panic in her voice took them both by surprise.

"Mom?" Sophia's eyes were wide and wary.

Nervous as to how Elaine might answer, Ted caught and held his breath. He held on to Sophia, too.

"I love you," Elaine said, then she looked to him for approval. It wasn't a perfect rendition of what he'd requested. There'd been less emotion in "I love you" than there'd been in "Don't go," and no hug, but Ted guessed Sophia hadn't heard those three words from her mother in a long, long time.

"I love you, too," she whispered.

Fortunately, the moment Sophia choked up, Elaine seemed to understand that the correct reaction to tears would be tenderness. Her expression softened and a vague smile claimed her lips. It was just normal-looking enough to encourage Sophia to step forward and embrace her.

Elaine didn't do much to respond, but she didn't try to break Sophia's hold, either. She seemed confused.

Taking Sophia's hand, Ted led her out of the room, and he was glad he had. As they left, he could hear Elaine yelling for money, but Sophia was so overcome with what'd just happened that she didn't seem to put two and two together. He walked her to the car before saying he thought he'd dropped his keys and headed back.

Elaine was so upset, the nurses were having to restrain her, but the second he walked back in and held up the money he'd promised, she calmed down.

"Thank you," he told her and put the hundred in her hand. "See that she gets a candy bar of her choosing every day for as long as this lasts, okay? And let her get it out of the vending machine herself."

"It'll rot her teeth," one of the nurses said, but what else did she have to enjoy in life?

"She earned it," he said. "Merry Christmas, Elaine. You did a wonderful thing a second ago. I appreciate it."

"I love you," she shouted after him as if that might bring more money, and he had to chuckle.

29.

Sophia didn't think she'd ever had a better afternoon. It was cold outside and rainy, but the car dealerships were decorated with garlands and ornaments and there was Christmas music playing every time they ducked in out of the wet. More than once they had a salesman bring them hot chocolate or hot cider. They weren't having much luck finding a car she could afford, but just being with Ted made Sophia happy. They talked and laughed as they explored various possibilities and, during quiet moments when Ted was in discussion with a salesman or hurrying across the lot to see if the car he'd spotted in the distance might be worth investigating, Sophia reflected on what it had been like to hug her mother after so long.

Good, she decided, a miracle for the brokenhearted. She wasn't sure she could maintain the confidence she was suddenly experiencing, but it was so wonderful to feel even remotely capable of becoming what she wanted to be that she couldn't stop smiling. Ted seemed to like that; at one point he caught her hand and pulled her close to him as if he'd kiss her. He didn't, but he stared down at her and said, "You are so beautiful."

A salesman interrupted before either of them could say anything else, but she tucked that memory away, too, to savor like the warmth of the sun finally hitting her face after a long, cold winter.

She was just going over it again, wondering what he might've said or done next, when he nudged her. "What do you think?"

They were looking at a 2002 Hyundai Elantra with 139,000 miles for $4,500. It was silver and not bad-looking on the outside, but the inside was pretty worn.

The reality of her impoverished circ.u.mstances really sank in as she got behind the wheel and smelled the mildew the air freshener couldn't quite conceal. Was the engine in any better shape?

She had no way to tell, and Ted wasn't much of a mechanic.

"I'm worried it might need repairs," she told him. "It has so many miles. But...maybe it would last a year or so."

The salesman rea.s.sured her it was in great shape, but Sophia knew better than to trust him.

"Should we go home and think about it?" she asked.

"I doubt you'll find anything better," Ted replied, and that convinced her to give it a shot. This was the best option they'd come across. But when they went in to the office to see if she could get financed, they received bad news. Despite the ad Sophia had heard claiming this dealership could help anyone, the manager told her she hadn't held a job long enough to compensate for her bad credit. Before they gave up, Ted had offered to lend her the money, but she'd refused. He'd done enough for her already.

"I'm sorry to have wasted your whole day," Sophia said as they left. It was now dark and the lots were closing. "You should've been at home, writing."

"I needed the time off." He slanted her a meaningful look. "Shall we catch an AA meeting before we head back? Now that you have a sponsor, she'll be expecting you."

Her sponsor's name was Madge. She'd texted Sophia earlier, to check in. "You're not too tired? You don't want to sit through yet another one of those, do you?" He'd already been to several. Sometimes he stayed in his car answering email on his phone. But there were times when he came in with her, too.

"They're important. And I'm willing."

"I've had such a good day. I'd rather not cap it off with that. But...I don't want to screw up, either. So I guess we should."

"Maybe since you're feeling strong, we could put it off until tomorrow and go over to the mall instead."

She hadn't done any Christmas shopping yet. Of course, she didn't have the money to do much, especially after putting that attorney on retainer. But she needed to buy Alexa a few things. "That would be fun. I'll text Madge to let her know," she added.

He took her hand once they reached the mall, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Sophia had no idea where their relationship was going; she was afraid to even consider that. So she told herself she wouldn't. She'd take this day as a gift and leave it at that.

They closed down the mall, too. Sophia bought several small gifts for Alexa. It had taken her forever to choose each one, since she was trying so hard to make her money last, but she was certain that what she'd bought would please her daughter.

Ted had left her to herself for a while after they ate at the food court and returned with a few packages of his own. But he hadn't told her what was in them, and she didn't ask. She'd done his business shopping, but he was taking care of the gifts for family and friends.

"Will you be going to your mother's for Christmas dinner this year?" she asked.

He was holding her hand again. She pretended it was no big deal-nothing more than what any employer would do with his housekeeper. But the warmth of his palm against hers, and the memories of what it had been like all those years ago, made her feel love-drunk.

"I don't know," he said.

"If you'd like to save her the trouble of cooking, I'll make a feast for both of you before Alexa and I go to the DeBussis'."

He gave her a skeptical look. "Are you really going to the DeBussis'?"

She pretended to be preoccupied with navigating the traffic to get to his car. "Probably." At any rate, she wanted to put him on notice that he didn't have to worry about her, that she didn't expect to figure into his plans. She wanted him to feel free to go and have a nice time.

"I'm not sure what my plans are yet," he said.

"Okay. Just let me know. I've clipped some recipes, in case."

When he smiled at her, she felt her heart leap into her throat. Something was happening, something as wonderful as it was terrifying-but she dared not examine it too closely for fear she'd find it was only wishful thinking.

As they drove home, they talked for at least half the journey. About Alexa and what she was getting for Christmas. About the score Sophia had achieved on her latest typing test-nearly 60 words per minute. About Royce and Alexa officially "talking." About his book and how he planned to save his protagonist from certain death at the end. They even talked about the possibility of using some of what Skip had done in a future book. But after a while, Sophia couldn't stay awake.

"This has been one of the best days of my life," she told him and let her eyes slide shut.

He laughed softly. "You didn't even get a car."

"That's okay," she said and drifted off.

Ted woke Sophia when they pulled into his garage. He would've preferred to sit and watch her sleep, but that was a little too stalkerlike. He'd certainly never had that compulsion with any other woman. "Hey, unless you want me to try to carry you up those stairs again, you'd better start moving on your own."

Opening her eyes, she offered him a sleepy smile-one he also found incredibly s.e.xy. "Can you make it look easy this time?"

He brought a hand to his chest. "Of course, being so strong. It's just that I've got a lot of shopping bags tonight."

Her laughter sounded more carefree than it had since she'd come back into his life. "I'll help."

Once they were inside, he suggested they wrap their gifts so there'd be something under the tree when Alexa came home. He looked forward to surprising Sophia's daughter and to spreading some holiday cheer. But Sophia seemed to think it would be too presumptuous to use his tree.

"We don't need to crowd in on your Christmas," she said. "I can stack Alexa's presents on my dresser. I know that doesn't seem very traditional, but she understands this year will be different."

"It doesn't have to be that different. Not when I've got a perfectly good tree."

"You sure you don't mind sharing?"

That would put them together on Christmas morning. He understood why she was hesitating. But he couldn't believe she had other plans, and he wanted her with him at Christmas. Alexa, too. "Of course not. I got it for all of us to enjoy."

"Okay." She flashed him a smile before pulling out some wrapping essentials. "I bought some pretty paper and ribbon. You're welcome to use it."

She seemed to think that wrapping was important, but he didn't usually go to much effort. "I've got some paper from last year, don't I?"

"Oh, right." She rose to her feet. "It's in the front closet. I'll grab it since we may not have enough here."

He went to his office for tape and scissors and they spread out on the living room floor across from each other with the lights of the tree twinkling in the corner.

"What'd you buy today?" she asked as he began to empty out his bags.

He'd bought a pretty jewelry box for Alexa, but he didn't want to make a big deal of that. He left it in the sack and held up a brown suede Calvin Klein coat. "This, for my mother."

She examined it. "Nice. I bet she'll love it."

"I doubt it. She's impossible to please. But I keep trying. And I bought this." He pulled out a Giants cap for Noah. "I get him a new cap every year, and he gets me a pen. It's sort of a standing joke between us."

"I envy you your friends," she said.

Hearing that wistful note in her voice made Ted feel like a real a.s.s about how he'd behaved over the past few years. "I'm sorry I wasn't friendlier about letting you join us for coffee," he said. "I had no idea just how bad it was at home, how a little...camaraderie might've helped."

"I don't blame you."

"Still. I wish I hadn't been so involved in what I was feeling."

"Stop. I was busy getting what I deserved," she said, doing her best to make a joke out of it. "Anyway, I shouldn't have been so forward. I knew no one really wanted me there. It was just..."

"What?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "G.o.d, I missed you so much!"

When she looked up again, she seemed as surprised as he was that those words had come out of her mouth, and immediately started backpedaling. "But of course I was married and you'd moved on. And it'd been so long. I was stupid to think we could ever be friends." She caught herself again. "I mean...I hope we're friends now. But...I'm talking about before."

"You seem nervous," he said with a grin. "Did you, by chance, reveal too much?"

"Maybe." She scowled at him. "But it's not funny. I wanted your forgiveness, okay? Are you happy now you've forced me to admit that?"

"I'm feeling pretty good about it, yeah."

She rolled her eyes at the c.o.c.ky tone he'd used. "Can't you cut me some slack? I'm in an awkward situation here, working for someone who's hated me for years."

He grew serious. "I'm not sure hate's the right word."

"Then what is?" She started fiddling with the Band-Aids protecting her cuticles as if she wanted to get them off, and he moved close enough to stop her.

"Maybe it's time I was honest, too."

She pulled her hands away. "That's okay. I've had more honesty than I can handle for one year. I know what you thought of me."

"You might not know this." He clasped her chin and tilted up her face. "I didn't want you at coffee because..." When she stiffened as though bracing for a litany of her past sins, he slipped his hand around to the back of her head. "I was afraid I would forgive you."

Her big blue eyes, so unsure of whom to trust these days, were riveted on his. "Would that have been so terrible?"

She'd been drowning in misery. Coming to Black Gold on Fridays was her way of searching for a lifeline, and he hadn't thrown her one. But if he'd opened his heart at all...