“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling well,” she said, not looking either of them in the eye. “Must have eaten too much. But don’t worry, I didn’t make a mess or anything.”
“I couldn’t care less about that,” Phyllis said. She wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders and led her into the living room, sitting beside her on the couch. Not sure what he should do, Matt sat on Sophie’s other side.
Support seemed important at that moment.
“You’ve got a problem, Sophie,” Phyllis said bluntly. “Do you know much about eating disorders?”
The girl stiffened, but Matt noticed she didn’t shrug off Phyllis’s touch. “I don’t have an eating disorder.”
“Forcing yourself to regurgitate your dinner is an eating disorder.”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever done that.”
“I don’t believe you,” Phyllis said. She wasn’t giving the girl any leeway at all. Matt respected her for it. “Look at your finger. That sore on your knuckle testifies to how often—and how recently—you’ve been making yourself throw up.”
Sophie slid both hands under her thighs.
Matt couldn’t stand to see her suffering so much. She was a great kid. Had so much potential, if she’d just believe in herself.
“If you won’t let me help you with this, I’m going to have to turn you over to a school counselor when school starts again,” Phyllis said.
“You promised you wouldn’t go to anybody with what we talked about!”
“All I have to tell a counselor is what happened here this afternoon.”
Sophie didn’t relent. Didn’t admit to anything. Didn’t do anything but sit there between them, her hands beneath her, staring at the Christmas tree.
“Why, Soph?” Matt couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”
He was shocked when she turned angry, tearful eyes on him. “How can you ask me that?” she demanded. “You should know why.” She bowed her head.
He should?
He and Phyllis exchanged a glance, but he couldn’t give her any answers. He was as puzzled as she was.
“It was all for you.” The words were mumbled, her tone defeated. “I thought you knew that.”
“For me?” Matt’s heart started to pound. His lungs felt as if they were closing, depriving him of air.
She gazed at him, her eyes imploring. And he began to understand.
He was going to be sick.
“I know how you feel about me,” she said. “And I know you think you have to give me lots of time because you’re older than me. It makes me feel good that you’re taking such care to do things right for us, that it means so much to you….”
Matt could hardly believe this was happening. He stared at his hands. At least they were familiar. He recognized them. He couldn’t have looked at Phyllis if his life had depended on it.
“But the thing is,” Sophie said, her voice growing more confident—so confident it frightened him, “I already feel the same way about you that you feel about me. I don’t need the time. What I need to do is make sure that when you finally decide we can be together, my body’s as perfect as any woman’s you’ve ever been with. I won’t have you thinking of me as a child. I’m going to be a woman for you.”
As the life slowly faded out of Matt, Sophie turned to Phyllis.
“I’m sorry I’m saying all this in front of you,” she said. “You shouldn’t be dragged into our situation, but you know all about it, anyway, and I just can’t keep quiet anymore.”
“Matt’s the man you were talking about, then?” Phyllis’s voice sounded so unnatural Matt raised his eyes to her.
But only for the split second it took for her to look back at him, her expression clouded by doubt. He’d already been tried, convicted, sentenced.
Nine years ago.