“Okay, maybe just this much.” She pinches her finger and thumb together, a sliver of space between them.
“Look, Soph, I know I should be excited for you, and I promise I’m working on it. This is your dream, and instead of cheering you on, I’m . . . booing from the sidelines.”
“You’re booing?”
“Not literally. The point is, I want to encourage you, not hold you back. I’ll get better at it.”
“How come you’re saying this now?”
“Lexie said some things that got me thinking. I don’t want this to come between us.”
“That could never happen,” she says, echoing Lexie’s reassurances. “We’re like, attached for life. I don’t want you thinking I’m turning my nose up at running the café with you. What you’ve built here is ah-mazing, but my heart’s set on working at a top-tier advertising firm. They have huge creative budgets, and I’d have the chance to climb my way up to an executive role.”
While other kids were watching the Disney Channel,Sophia was glued toMad MenandThe Pitch, drawn to the glamor of advertising. So, as much as I want to protect her from the corporate big bad wolves, I have to let her make her own choices.
“I get it,” I say. “Just never let anyone dim your light, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I hope the ticket comes through for you,” I add, showing my support.
“Really?” She throws her arms around me, nearly knocking me off balance.
“Jesus, Soph.” I steady us and hug her back. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“Yes, it is,” she insists. “So I have Lexie to thank for this?”
“Pretty much.”
“Invite her to my birthday dinner,” she says, pulling back.
“What? Why?”
“Introducing her to your family lets her know you want to be more than friends.”
“She already knows that. But ten non-dates later, and I’m still stuck in the Friend Zone.”
“Maybe you need to come on stronger; give her a little push.”
I shake my head. “I’m not crossing her boundaries. She’s had enough people disrespect her choices and what she wants. I won’t be one of them.”
“You’re right and such a good guy.” She pats my cheek. “But invite her anyway. I feel like it’ll be good for both of you.”
“Based on what?”
“Women’s intuition.”
I make a face, and she laughs. “Your baby sister’s gonna be twenty-two. Let that sink in.”
There’s a clutch in my chest as I look at her, all grown up. The trip from the little girl I used to sing to sleep to the young woman planning her life hadn’t taken nearly long enough.
But it’s here, which means I have my own life to lead. And it’s no surprise that Lexie fills those thoughts.
For the past two weeks, we’ve seamlessly slipped into a daily rhythm. We have morning coffee dates at our table and never run out of things to say. It’s all smiles and easy laughter.
Then there are the long evenings that stretch into long nights, filled with quiet walks and snowmobile rides. I took her to the graffiti tunnel, where she went from drawing to drawing, analyzing every detail and honoring the work like it was the Art Institute.
On our trip to the dunes, she marveled at the vastness of Lake Michigan and the peacefulness of its shores.
