Find all the parts of this story here.
Chapter 3: Saints and Sinners
Part 4: Sam
“Hey, Ryan!” Sam greeted his brother heartily as soon as he exited the car. “Didn’t know you were coming.”
“Didn’t know they let you out of the station anymore,” Ryan teased back.
“Ha, ha,” Sam deadpanned. “Don’t quit your day job.”
Ryan laughed and enveloped Sam in a bear hug. Neither man was small, but man – Ryan was definitely gaining muscle.
“You eat anything besides protein these days?” Sam quipped with a light jab to Ryan’s arm.
“Hey, now. Just because you’re jealous…”
“Pshaw,” Sam scoffed. “I’m doin’ just fine, thanks.” He flexed his bicep.
“Boys!” their mom hollered from the porch, giving a pointed look toward the street once she had their attention. Sam winced when he turned to see Sophie standing awkwardly next to her car while he and his brother picked on each other in the driveway.
“Sorry, Mom,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear, then quickly made his way to Sophie.
“Sorry,” he repeated when he reached her. “This is my brother Ryan. Ryan, this is Sophie Lane.”
“Nice to meet you, Sophie Lane,” Ryan gave a hearty but gentle handshake. Why did Sam suddenly want to shove his elbow into Ryan’s ribs?
“Nice to meet you, too, Ryan,” Sophie returned the greeting with a nervous smile.
“Come on inside,” Sam suggested, gesturing towards the front porch where his mom still stood watch.
“S-sure,” Sophie stuttered, then tottered slightly when her heels caught on the lumpy grass.
“Careful,” Sam caught her elbow. She blushed but said nothing. When they reached the sidewalk, she pulled her arm back. Bummer for Sam…
“So how’d you two meet?” Ryan asked from Sophie’s other side.
“Work,” Sam replied shortly. After a 3-second pause, Ryan held out an open hand and raised his eyebrows in a gesture requesting more information. Sam sighed.
“Sophie works for a marketing company that’s been hired to redo Williamson’s image or something,” he explained.
“Oh! We had some of the Jordan Designs people at the firehouse,” Ryan chimed in with excitement. “Hey, wait. Were you Sam’s ride-along?”
Sophie cast a look at Sam right before they reached the porch steps, and he wished he was a mind-reader.
“I was,” Sophie replied demurely.
“Welcome, Sophie,” Sam’s mom greeted as soon as their feet hit the porch. “Come on inside. Shoes on or off, doesn’t matter! Follow me through to the kitchen. Boys, you can set the table while I get to know Sophie.”
Not for the first time, Sam had the impression that Laurie Harrison was a whirling dervish – a force to be reckoned with. Did the woman never stop talking? Moving? Managing? He suspected not. He wondered if his dad even got to fold his own socks, but Mom probably did that her way, too.
Also, he and Ryan were grown men. At 25 and 27, surely they were eligible to be called something other than ‘boys’. It sounded so juvenile.
But if he didn’t get moving, he’d surely be stuck with something worse than setting the table.
“Not those dishes, Ryan,” he heard his mom admonishing as he came down the hallway. “Yes, dear, the nice ones. Salad plates too.”
“Salad with quiche?” Ryan questioned.
“Fruit salad, dear,” Mom replied in a rather patronizing tone, as if this should have been patently obvious.
Fruit salad went on salad plates? News to Sam, but he wisely kept his mouth shut and grabbed a handful of silverware from the drawer.
“Sophie, tell me where you’re from. Wisconsin native?” Mom hurtled from directing her sons back into conversation. Sam noticed Mom had set Sophie with a paring knife and a pile of grapes to halve. He wondered if she had volunteered or not.
“No, I’m from Arizona,” Sophie replied. Sam was mildly surprised. First, he hadn’t ever thought to ask her that. Second, why had she chosen Wisconsin? Third, the coat she had pulled on during the ride-along made way more sense.
“Oooh, how exotic!” Mom exclaimed. Sam barely restrained his snort of disagreement.
“Not really to me, but it’s definitely different from here. There’s a lot of hard-packed sand. Very different vegetation. Less green. But I can’t get used to the cold.”
Mom laughed lightly. “I can imagine. Dan took me on a trip there once. I loved how toasty it was!”
“Did you grow up here?” Sophie politely returned his mother’s original question while also deftly steering the conversation away from herself.
“A few towns over, but still in Wisconsin, yes. Besides a handful of trips with Dan and the boys, I never left. I love the green grass and changing seasons. And the cheese.”
Mom laughed again, then directed a sharp glance at Sam. “Forks on the left,” she corrected. Sam sighed and did as she asked.
“I am surprised by how many types of cheese there are,” Sophie commented.
“Ryan, go find your dad,” Mom directed traffic. “Oh, my, yes. Although I would imagine any decent-sized city grocery store would offer many of the same options? Sam, grab those trivets.”
Sam hesitated in the kitchen doorway. What was a trivet again? Sophie discretely pointed to two thick but small wooden cutting boards – or at least that’s what he thought they were. One was shaped like the state of Wisconsin, and one like a cow. His mother’s kitchen was currently decorated with a cow theme. When he was younger, she had gone through an apple phase, then a corncob phase. He’d seen pictures of a floral pattern before he was born.
With a grateful smile to Sophie, he grabbed the thick wood slabs and laid them in the middle of the big round table.
“Wow,” Sophie couldn’t hold back her surprise as she stepped into the dining room with a bowl of the fruit she’d helped cut up. Sam grinned.
“Cool, isn’t it?” he agreed.
“Dad built it,” Ryan supplied as he set the warm loaf of bread in its ceramic cow basket on the table, as well.
“What is it?” Sophie asked.
“A built-in Lazy Susan,” Sam replied, giving the middle tier of the table a spin. The table sat 6 generously, 8 comfortably, and about 16″ from the outside edge was a second “table” that rested on top of well-greased bearings. All the food went on the Lazy Susan, which could then be slowly spun around so everyone could reach what they wanted.
“It’s amazing,” Sophie whispered.
“Just don’t pinch your fingers,” Sam cautioned, pointing to the half-inch gap between the tabletop and the Lazy Susan. Sophie nodded, then gently rested the crystal bowl she held in one of the remaining open spots.
“Everybody, have a seat!” his mom suddenly declared. She and Dad each carried a quiche to the already-laden table, and the five of them sat. Dad led the prayer, and then there was quiet for a while as everyone filled their plates. Sophie watched Sam and his family chat with quiet fascination, seeming markedly uncomfortable when asked questions about herself.
“What about your family, Sophie?” Mom asked during a lull in the chewing.
“I have an older brother Jonathan. He lives in California with his wife and daughter. My parents still live in Peshicot, AZ. It’s a small town like Williamson or New Albany. My dad runs a plumbing business. My mom helps him out with paperwork and stuff.”
“How nice that at least the small-town element feels familiar,” Mom chattered easily.
“Marketing and plumbing are so different. How’d you get into that? Oh, and what does your brother do?”
“Jonathan is a computer programmer,” Sophie replied, graciously ignoring the question pile. “I chose marketing because it comes easily to me. I helped my dad and our church with a few projects before committing to the profession. I like to help people present themselves in the best light possible.”
She had said much the same thing on the day they met. Sam could admit he had made assumptions about her based on preconceived notions of marketers in general. Sophie did not fit any of those negative stereotypes, and he found he rather enjoyed sharing her time and company.
What to do, what to do…
Then his mom cast a slightly devious look towards him and Ryan. “I have to ask, Sophie. Any boyfriend in the picture?”
Nothing. He would do absolutely nothing.