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Chapter 3: Saints and Sinners
Part 3: Sophie
Sitting between Sam and his mom was just… awkward. Oh, Sam was great. Gave her space, made sure she was following along – she saw his glances – even that shoulder bump of solidarity and encouragement. He was kind in ways that still surprised her after their initial meeting. He had been openly unenthusiastic about her job. And yet, here they were – and he had held her hand. Her palm still tingled almost an hour later.
Sam’s mom on the other hand… Sophie could guess many things about the woman. Chatty. Nosy. Pushy. Probably also loving and generous and endlessly cheerful. The kind of woman who loved her son to death. Also the kind of woman who likely wanted to see said son paired off.
Sophie stifled a sigh at the thought. Her experiences at her home church had taught her that when a church busybody set her sights on you, nothing – not even having to organize the congregation’s 50th anniversary bash – would sway her from her rightful throne of matchmaking. Sophie had hated every minute of being Mrs. Striker’s “project”. She feared she had only been spared by moving to the opposite end of the country. She had a sneaking suspicion she and Sam were about to become Mrs. Harrison’s “project”. Heaven, help us all. There were only so many places she could move to next.
Amy’s peskiness hadn’t helped her unsettled mood. Sure, they talked at church and rehearsals, but to suddenly call three times in a row? There’s a reason God invented voicemail, Amy.
Focus on Sam, Sophie reminded herself of the one peaceful person around her right now. As the service drew to a close, Sam’s attention remained unfatigued on the pastor. He greeted the people in front of and behind their pew with handshakes and his subdued friendliness. Laurie Harrison bubbled, talked, laughed, and generally exuded a wild zest for life. On her other side, Dan Harrison smiled indulgently at his wife and exchanged a few words with other men.
“Now, Sophie, normally I’d ask you to join us for Bible class, but Pastor’s taking a break during Lent to make time for the extra services in his schedule. So instead, can I persuade you to join us for brunch?” Laurie launched into conversation.
“Oh, um, I…” Sophie had no clue how to respond, and glanced behind her at Sam. Rats, he was still talking to the man in the pew behind them.
“Come on. Just an hour or two. I made quiche,” Laurie said as if this should be the world’s greatest temptation.
Maybe it was, because… “Okay. Thanks, Mrs. Harrison,” Sophie found herself replying without really thinking.
“Oh, dear, please call me Laurie. We’re going to be friends, right?” Laurie bubbled on. Sophie just smiled, at a loss for words.
“Mom,” came Sam’s warning growl over her shoulder.
“What?” Laurie feigned innocence to Sam, who just shook his head.
“Let’s go, sweetie,” Dan took his wife’s elbow as the usher gestured for them to leave church. Sophie followed the elder Harrison’s out of the pew and into the crowded little narthex. There she turned her phone back on to see 6 additional missed called and 9 text messages, all from Amy Shachar. She looked up to find Sam hovering close by.
“Would you excuse me for a moment? I’m going to return these calls,” she explained, waving her phone.
“Sure. I’ll find you in the parking lot before we go. I hear Mom persuaded you with quiche?” His tone held a hint of laughter.
“She did,” Sophie replied sheepishly. “I’ll be honest, I’m not the best cook.”
Now Sam’s laughter escaped for real. “Me neither. Steak and potatoes in the air fryer is about all I manage.”
“Tuna salad,” Sophie offered with a shrug.
Sam winced. “My mom’s quiche definitely wins over both of our options.”
Sophie smiled. “I’ll be back.”
She ducked out the front doors, skirted people lingering on the steps, and found a quiet spot in a sunny corner of the parking lot. Amy answered before the first ring had finished sounding in her ear.
“Are you okay?” She sounded a little out of breath.
“I’m fine, Amy. What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? You’ve never missed church, and you just went AWOL. Are you okay?” she repeated.
Sophie barely stifled a sigh. “Of course. I just went to a different church this Sunday, that’s all.” She knew she didn’t owe her an explanation, but if it helped her calm down, she’d happily offer one.
“What church?” Amy continued suspiciously. “There are no other Lutheran churches in Williamson.” Amy was a die-hard Resurrection devotee and automatically hesitant about all other churches.
This time she let the sigh escape. “No, but there’s one in New Albany.”
“Those old stodges?” Amy’s voice dripped with disdain, which raised Sophie’s hackles.
“That wasn’t nice, Amy,” she chided gently.
“Fine,” she snapped, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been worried sick about you.”
A nice thought, but it made her a little uneasy.
“There’s no need to worry. I am just fine,” she assured.
“Okay. Thank you for calling me back, and I apologize if I overreacted.”
If?
“I forgive you,” was all she could say.
“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you on Friday, right?” Amy said.
“Yes.”
“Same time & place?” she asked.
“You’ll see the message. You know I don’t talk about this,” she reminded her.
“Sorry, yeah. Okay. Have a good day, Sophie.”
She softened. “You too, Amy.” She almost added ‘thanks for caring’, but figured she’d be better off just letting it ride. She ended the call and tucked her phone back in her purse just as Sam approached.
“All good?” he asked.
“Yup. Just an abundantly cautious girl, I guess,” Sophie tried to mentally shrug off the conversation and her discomfort with it.
“Nice to have friends who care,” Sam tossed out. Now Sophie physically shrugged.
“Ready for quiche?” Sam blessedly changed the subject.
As if on cue, Sophie’s stomach signaled the fact her oatmeal had been consumed more than four hours ago, and she couldn’t help laughing even as she blushed.
“Yes, I think I am!”