4
Sophia
Irage and fume all weekend. Silently, mostly. Andre is back at work, which is to be expected. Simon, my other brother, is a contractor and usually doesn't work on the weekends. But he’s running behind on a job, which means he's nowhere to be seen either.
How dare Damien do this? How dare he hold my love for the community health center over me? And what's his agenda? I implied that he was doing this to sleep with me, but let’s be real. I don’t actually believe that’s his motivation. I'm not conceited enough to think that sex with me is worth a million dollars. Even if you have as much money as Damien Cardenas has.
So what's his plan? What's the game? I don't think he wants to be a better person. I'm not stupid enough to think that one conversation with me is enough to change his obliviousness.
On Sunday evening, we do our weekly family dinner: my fathers and my oldest brother Ben live in California, Andre, Simon, and I live in Highfield, and my sister Aurora lives with her husband Juan Pablo and daughter Dawn in Santa Fe. Thankfully, technology is a marvelous thing. The time difference between the East and West Coast complicates things. Simon, Andre, and I eat a little later than normal, and my fathers and Ben eat at five, which is earlier than they’re used to. We make it work. Family dinner is a tradition in our household, one we’re determined to preserve. The last time someone missed Sunday dinner was when Aurora was in labor with Dawn.
Simon sets the table while Andre and I fiddle with our iPads. Once everyone's online, we begin the meal. The first five or ten minutes is always a discussion about our meals, and this time is no exception. “What are you eating?” I ask, looking at Aurora's image on the screen. “Is that cereal? You’re eating cereal for dinner? You?”
Aurora is very big into healthy eating.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she sighs. “JP and I didn’t have enough energy to cook today. Dawn was up all night screaming her head off. We took turns soothing her.”
“Ouch,” I say sympathetically.
“What's wrong with my granddaughter?” Dad demands. Ben, who’s with them in person, smothers a grin. Dawn is the first grandchild, and Lenny Thorsen is very much a doting grandfather.
“A stomach bug. Thankfully, the worst seems to have passed. She’s sleeping now.”
“Where's JP?” Papa asks. When I was a kid, Hank Carver Johnson was the one who insisted on family dinner. His expression is so familiar that it makes my heart ache. It’s the same expression he had when he insisted I put down the book I was reading, take off my headphones, and come downstairs for family dinner. Because we are a family, Sophia, and it's important for us to eat together.
“He's helping his dad build a deck,” Aurora says. “He was supposed to be back already, but he’s running late. What are you guys eating? What’d you make, Dad? Andre?”
“Please,” Simon snorts. “As if Andre cooks at home. I made pasta. There was a recipe on the TikTok—”
“Oh, the one with cherry tomatoes and feta?” Aurora looms closer to peer at her screen. “Is it any good?”
“It’s fantastic.”
Once the food conversation is over, we take turns talking about what’s been going on with us. I hesitate when it’s my turn. All weekend long, angry thoughts of Damien have warred with memories of that magical night. I usually tell my family everything, but I kept my threesome hidden. Not because I thought they would have disapproved—my family is pretty open-minded—but because of the subsequent firing. Mrs. Caldwell had been horrible. She implied I was a slut, but even worse, she made it seem like it was because of my family. “Raised by two men,” she’d spit out. “It goes to show, doesn’t it?”
My fathers gave me a stable home. They smothered me with love. I will never do anything to hurt their feelings. So I hid the fact that I got fired. It took me three months to find another job. Three terrifying months. Ben loaned me some money for rent, but he didn’t have much either. It was rough going for a while.
It’s probably unfair that I’m blaming Damien. The real villain in the picture is Mrs. Caldwell. But that summer, as I became increasingly desperate to find work, it was Damien I resented. I wouldn’t have been in this situation if he’d kept his mouth shut.
And Julian? My feelings for him are more complicated. I can’t articulate why I resent Julian, but I do. When he didn’t come over during the fundraiser to say hi, it felt like our night together hadn’t even mattered. Or maybe he’s forgotten all about it. Maybe he’s forgotten me.
“Sophia?” Ben prompts. “What’s going on with you?”
I talk to my family about important things. Damien and Julian are not important, but my decision to go the IVF route is. “I went on another terrible date.”
Ben, Aurora, and Simon laugh. Dad grins, and even Papa cracks a smile. “What?” I ask defensively.
“How long did the date last?” Aurora asks Andre. “Did you time it like you were supposed to, or did you forget?”
“Wait, what?”
Andre avoids my outraged gaze. “She called me at seven-thirty-one. She left home at six-thirty. Let’s say it took her twenty minutes to get to the restaurant, which would make it—”
“Forty-one minutes,” Ben announces. He glances down at his phone. “Aurora, you’re this week’s winner.”
My mouth falls open. “Hang on,” I say slowly. “Are you assholes betting on my dates?”
Both my fathers give me rebuking looks for the swearing. I let it bounce off me. “Seriously?” I demand.