Sofia

When I got back to the office, I weaved through the cubicles as I made my way toward my desk. My boss wouldn’t care that I was ten minutes late coming back from lunch, but I did. If there was one thing I never wanted to be, it was irresponsible. Giving someone a reason to fire me was not on my to-do list. I had too much to lose and a son to support.

“You’re late,” Sarin said, chuckling as she approached my desk.

I glared at her. “Shhh, don’t be so loud.”

“Martin’s not back from his lunch meeting. You’re fine.” She waved at me like I had nothing to be concerned about, when the truth was that I needed to check all the voice mails and emails that had come in while I was gone.

I tossed my purse into my desk drawer and slammed it shut a little too hard, making the framed picture of Matson and me fall over. I moved it back upright and grinned when I looked at his cake-stained face. My dad took the picture on Matson’s third birthday, and it was still one of my favorites. I missed my son’s chubby cherub cheeks.

“How was the old guy?” Sarin asked as she stirred her cup of coffee.

“He wasn’t there,” I said without looking up, scrolling through emails.

Sarin snapped her fingers at me, drawing my attention, and I looked up from my computer at her.

“He wasn’t there? Where was he?” She blew at her drink before taking a sip.

“I thought he was dead,” I said and she choked, spitting her sip back into the cup.

“You made me do that.” She wiped at her chin with the back of her hand. “Hurry up and tell me what happened. I have to get back.”

“He checked out. But I thought he was dead, so I ran to Ryan’s stupid bar to ask him about it, and he asked me out.”

“What’d you say?”

I huffed, making sure Sarin knew I was annoyed. “I can’t go out with him, Sarin. I can’t date a guy like Ryan Fisher.”

“Fine, tell him to ask me out instead. He’s hot as hell,” she said with a wink.

“Not helping.”

“Not trying. But for the record, you’re being an idiot.”

Folding my arms over my chest, I glared at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Explain,” I said. This was something I definitely wanted to hear.

“He likes you. He’s made that abundantly clear, and you won’t even give him two seconds of your time. For no good reason either.”

“No good reason? Matson is the best reason I have. He’s the only reason I need,” I said, trying to make my closest friend see my situation through my eyes. She knew about my past, about Matson’s father, and I couldn’t believe she was questioning my not wanting to go out with Ryan.

Sarin rolled her eyes. “But what does Matson have to do with Ryan? Seriously. I’m not a mom, so I don’t always understand your reasoning, but please try to explain it to me. And make it quick.” She tapped a finger on her wrist.

Is she for real? “In what universe is dating one of the hottest guys on the planet, who also happens to be a bartender, is featured on reality TV shows and online articles all the time, a good idea for someone like me?”

“I think in this universe. This one.” She pointed at the floor. “Hell, he might be just what you and Matson need.”

I sat back hard in my chair, staring at her in disbelief. “How does Matson need a bartender in his life? And how do I need a guy in my life who’s pursued by every single woman in the city?”

“So that’s what this is about? The fact that he’s a bartender and girls hit on him?” Sarin scoffed at me. “It’s just a job, Sofia.”

I shook my head and swallowed. “It’s not, though. He owns the bar, and he chooses to work there. That’s a lifestyle. It’s a single guy’s dream, and I’m a single mom.” I bugged out my eyes at her. “Pretty sure those two things don’t go together.”

“Well, I think you’re wrong.” She frowned, glancing at her watch. “Shit, I have to go. Put a pin in this conversation because we’re not done with it.”

Exhaling, I watched my best friend hurry away from my desk and toward her own.

Was I wrong? Glancing at the picture of Matson again, I smiled, knowing that I wasn’t. He was my first priority, and it was my job to provide a good role model for him, both as a boy and as a future man.

And I honestly couldn’t picture that role model being Ryan.

• • •

After pulling up into my parents’ driveway, I shut off the engine and started toward their house to get my son. Mom appeared in the doorway, her expression one I wasn’t sure that I’d seen before.

“What happened? Are you okay? Is Matson okay? Is Dad okay?” My stomach churned as scenarios raced through my head.

She gripped my shoulder and shushed me, then told me everyone was fine. “Derek came by the house earlier.” Her voice was calm and controlled, unlike my legs, and I reached out to steady myself.

“D-Derek?” I stuttered, unable to get his name out. “What did he want? What did he say?”

Regaining my composure, I looked around for my son and let out a relieved breath when I saw him sitting in the living room. Adrenaline surged, filling me with a feral protectiveness, like a mama bear who would attack anyone who threatened her cub.

“Oh my God, does he want custody of Matson?” My throat tightened, and I thought I might throw up all over my mom’s pink hydrangeas.

“I’m honestly not sure what he wanted, mija.”

“How can you not be sure? You talked to him, didn’t you? What did he say?”

“He said he stopped by to see how we were. He wanted to know how you and Matson were, and if you still lived at home.”

My head ached with the news. It had been over eight years since I’d heard from Derek. Eight years since he’d left for college after telling me to get an abortion. Why would he suddenly show up and start asking questions?

“Please tell me you didn’t tell him where I live.”

She clucked her tongue at me, her eyes narrowed. “Never. But I did tell him that you were happy, safe, and better off without him.”

A small smile twitched my lips. “I bet he loved that.” Derek had always been overly cocky and confident as a teenager, but I had no idea what kind of man he’d grown into. I assumed it was more of the same.

When Mom patted her hand above her heart, her tell for when she was uncomfortable, I asked, “What else happened?”

“I told him to leave and never come back.”

“And?”

“He said I’d better watch my mouth. That Matson was his son too, and I could count on him coming back. He got really angry.”

The color must have drained from my face, because my cheeks turned to ice with her words. “Matson is his son too?” I whispered, not believing that this could be happening. Why would he claim paternity now?

“Your father walked over and threatened to blow a hole in his head if he ever showed his face here again, and you know what Derek did?”

My stomach twisted and my head pounded because I didn’t know. I had no idea at all what could have happened after that. “What?”

“He laughed. He actually laughed. I think he respected being threatened.”

“Is Dad okay?”

“Other than wanting to follow through on the threat, yes. He’s fine. Just worried.”

“What do we do? He can’t just come into Matson’s life out of nowhere and expect to be his dad. It doesn’t work like that. Matson doesn’t even know who he is.”

“I know. We’ll figure it out, mija.”

“How?”

Suddenly, I was terrified. Would I lose Matson? Would I have to share him with the one person who’d disappointed me more than anyone else ever had?

Logically, I knew Derek had every right to know his son and be a part of his life, but emotionally, I wanted to be sure Matson was safe and protected. Was letting Derek in Matson’s life the best thing for my son? I had no way of knowing. The truth was that I didn’t know Derek anymore.

“It will be okay, Sofia.” My mom gripped my shoulder. “Now, go get your boy and take him home.”

I nodded, feeling numb, my movements robotic.

Derek coming back wasn’t something I’d ever considered. After his family disappeared from my life, I’d stopped thinking about them at all and moved on. Derek rarely crossed my mind, except on those rare occasions when Matson would look up at me with his familiar blue eyes, drawing back into some high-school time warp. Sadness rarely consumed me, and I never spent time reminiscing.

The only good thing Derek had ever given me was my son, and now he wanted to be in his life? After eight years? I wanted to throw up.

“Mama!”

Matson’s voice rang out as he jumped up from the carpet and ran toward me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed before I leaned over and hugged him, then peppered his face with kisses until he told me to stop, wiping them off with his hand.

“Don’t you wipe off my kisses,” I teased before kissing him again.

“I made you something,” he said, his eyes lighting up with pride, and I beamed back.

“You did? I can’t wait to see it.”

Matson turned from me and ran toward the kitchen, blowing past my dad who had walked up to join us.

I stood up and smiled at him. “Hi, Dad.”

“Your mother tell you about the visit?” he asked, his tone wary.

I nodded. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet him myself.” I bit back a laugh as I tried to imagine my easygoing dad threatening Derek.

“Here, Mama.” Matson was back and thrust a paper toward my hands.

I reached for it and turned it around to check out the drawing he’d made. It was of me pushing him on the swings at the park in Venice. He’d written in blue crayon I love you Mom, and my eyes instantly welled up.

“You don’t like it?” His head tilted to one side.

I bent over again so we could be eye to eye. “I love it. It’s the most perfect picture I’ve ever seen. I love when you draw us together.”

“Thanks. Papa helped me draw the swings and get the waves just right.”

“That was nice of him.” I looked up at my dad and smiled.

“Can we go now? I’m hungry.”

“Hungry?” Mom asked. “I just filled this belly a half hour ago.” She poked at his stomach and tickled him as he tried to wriggle out of her grasp.

“What did he eat?”

“Half a grilled cheese and some carrot sticks.”

“Yeah, and I’m still hungry, Mama. I’m a growing boy. Papa said the more I eat, the more I’ll grow. And I want to be as tall as a building.”

“As tall as a building? How will you fit in anything?”

“I won’t have to fit. I’ll be a building, duh.” He rolled his eyes before slinging his little backpack over his shoulder and heading toward the door.

“Well then.” I glanced at my parents, who were chuckling at Matson as they held each other. “I guess we’re leaving.”

“I guess so.” Mom patted her heart again, that simple action telling me she was still worried about the Derek situation.

I gave my parents a reassuring smile. “Everything will be fine. Let me know if he comes back here.”

Now I was the one who was reassuring people, when I still needed a little reassurance of my own.

• • •

As we drove home, Matson filled the silence with stories about his day, and how he beat the fastest kid in his class in a race during recess. He told me that some boys were mean to his friend Hayley, pushing her, and Matson stepped between them and told them if you want to get to her, you have to go through me.

Pride filled me at my little man’s big heart. He was everything I’d ever hoped he would be.

“You like that, Mama? I did a good thing?”

I glanced at him in the backseat. “You did a great thing. That was very noble, and what a gentleman would do.”

“What’s a gentleman? What does noble mean? You aren’t mad that I told that kid I’d fight him?”

“No, honey, I’m not mad at all. I think it was a nice thing to stand up for Hayley. We shouldn’t let anyone pick on other people.” I paused, wondering how to describe nobility and gentlemanly behavior to an eight-year-old.

“And boys trying to fight with girls. We don’t do that,” he said, and I agreed.

“You’re right. Boys don’t fight girls. And a gentleman always make sure that girls are treated with kindness. A noble person would never stand by and watch someone be mean for no reason. A noble person stands up and does the right thing.”

“You think that’s what I did, Mama? I did the right thing?”

“Absolutely, you did. I’m so proud of you.”

I glanced at his face in my rearview mirror, and when I saw the size of his smile, my heart warmed. In that moment, I forgot all about Derek, and my thoughts filled with how sensitive and kind my son was.

Following the narrow driveway to the back of the bungalow, I shut off the engine and turned back toward Matson before getting out. Just a single look, and his face lit up again like I’d brought home ten puppies.

“I made you happy, huh?” he asked.

“You sure did.”

We hopped out of the car and headed into our house through the back door like usual. Derek immediately popped into my head and I stopped short, glancing all around me, checking out my neighbor’s backyard to be sure no one was watching. When the coast was clear, I released a quick breath and nudged Matson inside, then closed and locked the door behind us.

Was this how my life was going to be until Derek finally found out where I lived? Would I constantly be on the lookout, waiting for him to show up? I was suddenly thankful that the house wasn’t in my name and that I was only renting.

“Mama?” Matson’s voice made me realize that I’d been standing at the door, unmoving.

Shaking my head, I turned around. “Sorry about that,” I said, and he giggled.

Matson and I went through our weekday routine of eating dinner, and then sitting together at the table and working on his homework immediately after. Heaven help me if my son had any trouble understanding his homework, because I wouldn’t be any help. The way he was taught wasn’t how I had learned things as a kid. As I watched him make his way through math problems, I felt confused and helpless.

“Is it unwind time now, Mama?”

That was what we called it when we sat in front of the TV and watched shows together. Some people probably considered me a bad parent for letting him watch so much television, but in my opinion, it helped us bond. I spent all day long without him, and if we wanted to watch mindless animated cartoons together, I figured there were worse things we could be doing.

“As soon as I finish up the dishes.” I walked into the kitchen and turned on the faucet to fill the sink with hot water, squirting in a measure of soap. “Did you brush your teeth like I asked?”

Matson groaned, and then I heard his feet padding across the floor. I turned my head to watch him pass by, but he stopped.

“I’m going. See?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Welcome,” he muttered before disappearing.

After an hour of unwind time, I tucked Matson into his bed and read him his favorite book about dinosaurs.

Twice.

“One more time, Mama. Please.”

He batted his baby blues at me, knowing damn well they were my kryptonite. I could have flipped it and asked him to read to me, but I secretly enjoyed these moments when he still wanted me there, still asked for me to read to him. One day it would all change, and there would be no going back.

As I pretended to ponder his question, he tilted his head, blinking his eyes even faster than before, and I laughed.

“Last time,” I said, preparing him. If I didn’t tell him that, he would ask me to read to him over and over until the sun came up.

Even after I finally stopped reading and walked out the door, guilt consumed me for not reading it just one more time. What harm would it have done?

I pushed the thought aside and filed it in my brain under the category I liked to call Mama Guilt. Nothing was ever enough. I could always do more, be more, spend more time, have more, give more—more, more, more. But I also knew that if I didn’t take the time to give myself some self-care, I wouldn’t be the best mom I could be.

I considered that balance as I made my way to the couch and flipped the channels for a show to watch that was way more grown-up and far less Disney.

No sooner had I found a trashy reality show when my phone pinged with a text message. I glanced at it, seeing only a phone number instead of a name, and it wasn’t a number I recognized.

Wary, I opened the message.

 

Unknown Number: Still on for our date, angel?

 

Nerves shot through me as I wondered how the heck Ryan had gotten hold of my phone number. He was a resourceful guy, so I figured he had his ways, but I was slightly unnerved.

Another text pinged.

 

Unknown Number: Don’t even think about hanging this old man out to dry. And if you tell Ryan I called myself old, I’ll be forced to call you a liar in public. Don’t make me do that, Sofia.

 

I laughed out loud, both with relief and at Grant’s words. Tucking my feet underneath me, I leaned into my couch and added him to my contacts, then typed out a quick response. I decided to tease Grant a little before agreeing to our date.

 

Sofia: I’m impressed that you text. I pegged you as more of a caller.

 

The bubbles danced as I waited for his response.

 

Grant: I thought texting was less rude at this hour. Were you sleeping?

 

Giggling again, I glanced at the time, even though I didn’t need to check it. Matson started getting ready for bed at eight thirty on the dot each night, and I made sure that I was done reading and out of his room by nine. It was barely five after.

 

Grant: You’re stalling.

 

Patience, Grant, I thought. You need to work on your game.

 

Grant: Sofia!

 

I couldn’t stop laughing, and before I could even respond to his text, my phone blared out its ringtone, the music way too loud. I quickly silenced it before answering, hoping it didn’t disturb Matson.

“You have zero patience,” I said instead of saying hello.

“You took too long,” Grant grumbled. “And you’re right. I like talking better than typing on this stupid thing. My thumbs are too big, anyway. I always press the wrong buttons, and it has to correct it for me. Half the time it sends something that makes no sense at all. Like why would I ever tell someone to water the zoo?”

I laughed again, still not getting a single word out before he continued.

“I was thinking we could go to the bar on Thursday or Friday, your choice.”

I pondered for a second as I considered my options. Thursday would be less crowded, but Matson needed me to stick to our weekday routine. I didn’t want to mess it up any more than I have been lately.

“Friday works,” I said before I could talk myself out of it. I needed to ask my mom to watch Matson, and she’d want to know what I was up to, but it wouldn’t be a problem. Part of me hated leaving my son any more than was necessary, but I had promised Grant I’d do this, and the sooner I agreed, the sooner it would all be over. This ridiculousness could stop, and we could all move on with our lives like we’d never even met.

“Friday, it is,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at eight. That way it won’t be too crazy in that godforsaken place.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I said, but Grant cut me off.

“This is a date, Sofia. How can I make Ryan jealous if we arrive in separate cars? I’ll pick you up. Text me your address.”

He was so bossy. “Okay. I will.”

“Good night, angel. Sleep tight.”

“Good night, Grant. Don’t forget to water the zoo.”

I pressed End on the phone and convinced myself that none of this meant a damn thing. I’d go, have fun with Grant, and never think about Ryan or his ridiculously charming self again.