SOFIA SOL

“Jett, did you hear that?”

Dad snatched his gun from atop the motel nightstand and leapt from bed in sweatpants and nothing else, ears perked, grey eyes alert. In a hushed voice he told Mom, “Let’s check it out.”

She threw the thin comforter off her, wearing a black tank top and matching pajama shorts, strong legs walking to her gun in the saddlebags that sat on the old carpet between our double beds as I watched, sitting up, age twelve and itching to get into the action.

There’d been weird footsteps. I’d heard them and whispered to Mom, found her awake, having caught the strange sound, too. It was like someone was dragging something past our door, and it was struggling, with muffled gurgles.

But what I didn’t understand is why the hell she didn’t just go and check it out herself. Ask him to follow, sure, but she was more than capable to lead the way. She could take down anyone. I’d seen her. She was my role model, so fierce.

Dad silently, expertly, opened the door and angled his head to peer outside. Mom was behind him and my shoulders slumped in an impatient exhale. I climbed out of the bed and she gave me a warning look, pointing to the bed and mouthing, no!

I climbed back in. I knew there was no way I’d sneak by her. Dad nodded to her that it was time to sneak out after the noise-maker. They left the door cracked because closing it might alert the guy they were coming.

In my long nightgown I tiptoed over, jumping in my skin when I heard a scuffle and grunting. Despite the fact that Mom would kill me if she knew I was here, I looked out. Under flickering lights in a desolate parking lot Dad had a big guy pinned, punching him cold while Mom pulled a gag off the man he was dragging, and I recognized him as the clerk who’d checked us into the motel. Gasping for air, he thanked her, eyes filled with terror and relief as they swung to his assailant.

Two doors opened on either side of ours. Tonk exploded out of one, Carmen peeking from the safety of the door. I knew Celia was in bed. With her mother there, she couldn’t do what I was.

The other was Honey Badger, gun drawn.

We were out in the middle of nowhere at one of those shit-holes where the neon sign is from the 50’s and whoever chose the color palettes was blind.

Luke, Honey Badger’s oldest boy, but younger than I was by a couple years, stuck his head and scrawny shoulders out of his room, and we locked eyes. I held my fingers to my lips with a silent shhh. He nodded and ignored his mom as Meg urged him to get back inside, her soft voice worried.

Locking eyes with me, he smiled.

We weren’t the types to wait.

We wanted to watch.

Learn.

Fight.

Atlas, younger than Luke, tried to stick his head out but Luke shoved him back in. He scrambled lower, and managed to spy, too.

I knew Meg had a hold on Sage, her only daughter, the baby of the bunch.

In the background during all that, we listened to Dad tell Tonk and Honey Badger that they needed to take the unconscious thug out somewhere, teach him a lesson, make sure he lost the urge to come to this hotel again. It was a robbery gone wrong, way wrong, and he wanted it to be the guy’s last. They’d make sure of it.

Mom was listening to the men talk when her dark eyelashes flickered toward me, distracted by all the scuffling between Luke and Atlas. They ruined it for me.

“Shit,” I whispered, and ducked back inside, running to the bed and lying down, pretending I was asleep.

The door opened and my heart pounded hard. “Sofia Sol!”

I sighed and pushed the blankets back a little. “I couldn’t just lie here, Mom!”

A smile tugged at her lips even as she shook her head. “You need to trust that when we tell you to do something, it’s for a reason. I don’t know how I’d survive if you got…hurt.” She sat on the bed and ran her fingers along the edge of my cheek. “We could leave you home next time if you keep this up.”

“No!” I cried out. This was my first time on a mission, albeit not as dangerous as the one we’d just stumbled upon, and we weren’t even there yet. I’d been looking forward to this part of my training for years and I didn’t want to wait to feel this excited again. We were heading to a shelter who’d asked Dad to bring Cipher kids to help train the children there to be able to stand up for themselves—to give them self-confidence. And I couldn’t wait to do good.

“Then do as you’re told,” she firmly said, rising to put her gun back in the saddlebags. She rested it on top and straightened up. Running both hands through her long black hair, she exhaled and blinked a few times in deep thought. She looked so beautiful. I wanted to be like her, not gangly with little mosquito bites for boobs. At least my butt had begun to round out. But I looked more boy than girl, in my mind. Nothing like her. And the best part about her was she could kick some serious ass. Like some sort of superhero, only real. I worshipped her.

That’s why I was so confused.

I demanded, “Mom, why didn’t you just go get him yourself?” crossing my legs and tucking my nightgown between them for modesty.

Her head cocked. “What?”

“When I told you there was someone out there doing bad things, you made Dad go first. You weren’t scared, were you?” I knew she could hear the disappointment in my voice.

She laughed, not big, just amusement on a breath. “That’s not why I did it. Hold on.” Walking to the door, she peered out. In the distance I could hear Dad’s footsteps growing louder, his gait so familiar I had no doubt that it was him. “Jett, I need to talk to our daughter about something, can you hang with Meg for a second? She’ll be worried about Honey.”

“You got it, Sunshine.”

Mom closed the door and smiled, volume lower, “Meg won’t be worried by the way, notice what I did there?” Frowning I shook my head. She sat on their bed, the one closest to the door by design, and rested her hands on her bare knees, elbows locked. “Sofia, men need us to make them feel strong.”

My eyes narrowed in confusion. “They’re already strong!”

She sighed, glancing to her wedding band and twirling it so that the small, embedded diamonds were centered. Because of fighting, she couldn’t have a huge rock, though I’d overheard Dad curse the fact that he couldn’t get her one, a million times. She always told him she chose the one she had because she’d never have to take it off.

“We have a lot more power over them than you think.” Her eyelashes rose. “It took me a long time to learn not to abuse that. I wasn’t exactly an easy woman to love. Your father was very patient and in return I learned how to be a better woman, and a great wife. Haven’t you seen how much he loves me?”

“He’s crazy about you.”

“And I feel the same about him.”

“I know!”

“When you love someone you want them to be happy. Men need certain things for that. They need you to look at them like they’re a hero, even when you may not feel that way on that particular day or for a stretch of time. Feelings change, and letting a feeling rule your life, is a long-term mistake to a short-term problem. The effects last, understand?”

“No.”

She came over to sit on my bed and crossed her legs on it, too, hair hanging to one side. “You’re so like me,” she whispered, clucking her tongue as she thought about how to get through to me. Taking a deep breath she met my eyes. “Men are physically stronger than we are, but our strength is our femininity. And it’s more powerful than all of their muscle. They want to make us happy, and they want to help. They want us to love them, not in a needy way, but in an empowering, supportive way. Where we have the urge, you and I, to do everything ourselves and show how independent we are, you need to know that it leaves no room for your man to be on your team, when you grow up. At our home base, we always let the men lead the way, have you noticed that?”

“Yeah.”

“Even Melodi and I do it, and we’re the biggest bitches there, because that makes our husbands feel like men. Yes, I can fight, and I’m deadly when I want to be, but I treasure your father’s love, support, assistance, his need to protect me, his desire to stand up for the woman he loves.” She reached out and touched my chin. “And the daughter he adores more than he loves himself… Sofia Sol, if you let a man be a man, he will make you a very happy woman.” Her calloused fingers drifted down to rest on my knee and give it a squeeze. “I know that stubborn look, you don’t believe me, so start paying attention from now on. When Carmen asks Tonk to open the jars that really aren’t that tight, she does that because it makes him feel good to be the brawn in their relationship. That’s a simple example of an action she takes that keeps his affection coming.”

“They’re sappy.”

“Yes, they are,” Mom laughed. “Have been since the day they met. But it’s not just her. Think about it. When Meg beams at Honey Badger every time he shows her the dirty parts and describes in detail how he fixed his motorcycle, which you know she doesn’t give two shits about mechanics, watch how his chest inflates and how hard he kisses her afterward. Why does she do it? She cares about him— what he cares about, she cares about. There’s nothing more important to a man than feeling like a hero. It’s really that simple. Pay attention. Learn. We must always respect the men in our household because they respect us, and they deserve it just like we do. They aren’t trophies. They’re half of our team.”

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