Wrong thing to say. “Why should I not bring God into this?”
“Alidz,” her father sighed.
“You choose one college out of 165 in our state and you pick that little place and he picks that little place, and—”
“Alidz!”
Sophie ate an olive as her mother explained loudly (in Armenian) how it was obviously divine providence. “You are not going to be one of those girls who go away to college and forgets her upbringing!”
Faith. One of those inexplicable things that had seen her family through war, refugee camps, genocides, immigration, infertility, and more. So much more. “No, Mom. No, Daddy. I like Jesse a lot, but we’re not serious or anything.”
“Bring him home with you for Thanksgiving!”
“I can’t, Mom. He has to be with his mom this year, she’s his only family. Or at least, the only one nearby for Thanksgiving.” Even though it was true, Sophie felt like she would have wanted to keep Jesse away from her parents for now, anyway. Her father might scare him off. Her mother might smother him and overwhelm him.
Mostly, she simply wanted to experience this on her own.
As she sat, smiling softly without speaking, she realized her parents weren’t speaking, either. They were looking at one another, but not with romantic reminiscing in their eyes. “Mom?”
“Nothing, Sweetness.”
“Did you tell him about your family?” her father inquired, his fork pointing toward the screen.
“Of course! I talk about you all the time.”
“What does he look like? Is he handsome?” her mother fished, dark eyes gleaming.
That earned a genuinely enthusiastic response! “Oh, Mom,yes! Wait, I’ll send you a picture if you promise not to make a big deal.”
“Why do you have this boy’s picture in your phone?”
“Daddy, chill. We’re friends. If I had friends growing up, I bet I’d have their pictures in my phone, too,” Sophie snapped. It shut her parents up, but this silence wasn’t pleasant, it was hurt. “Sorry. Hey, I’m glad I met him. There.” She tapped her phone, held her breath, and hit send.
Her mother was quicker on the draw. “Here, Sam.” She held the phone out so they both could see.
“Did it come through? It’s not the best picture. It’s always cloudy out here.”
“You... look happy with him,” her mother replied in a tight, cheery voice.
“Your heads are touching.”
“That’s ‘cause it’s a photo of both of us, Daddy.” It had been just this week that she got brave enough to casually ask, “Can we take a picture?”
“Sophie, he looks... like such a nice boy. He surely is handsome, isn’t he, Sam?”
“I suppose so. One of those pretty actor boys with a dimple in his chin.”
“A cleft, I think they call it a cleft,” her mother murmured, fingers pinching and sliding on the screen to enlarge the picture.
“Wh-where is he from?”
“Pine Ridge, New York. It’s not too far from the college, about an hour and a half away."
Both of her parents nodded and made humming noises of comprehension.
The conversation became stilted. Her mother started talking about work and her father was silent. He didn't return to his favorite topics of her grades, her job search, or her long-overdue weekend visit.
"I should go soon. I have a new piece and I have juries right before break." Sophie tried to find a merciful end to the dying conversation.
