She nods, then sets it in the cup holder next to her. “You’re right. I should save some and eat this popcorn.” Sophiareaches over into the empty seat next to her where she placed her giant tub of popcorn I bought her during the first period. Reaching down into the tub, she grabs a handful of the buttery goodness and shoves it in her mouth, dropping about half of it into her lap. Sophia doesn’t seem to mind the mess she’s making, so I just smile and shake my head before turning my attention back to the game.
The Bobcats and D.C. Stars are tied 1–1. It’s been a pretty chippy game, with both teams taking far too many unnecessary penalties. We’re extremely high up from the ice, so I can’t hear the words coming out of Lincoln’s mouth right now. But based on how red his face is on the Jumbotron, I’d say he’s not too happy with the penalty they just called on Jefferson. Man, he’s really giving it to the ref right now.
Sophia points to the ice as the Bobcats make a line change before they go onto the penalty kill. “Look! Daddy’s out there.”
I look over to respond and see her big smile transform into confusion. I’m about to ask what’s wrong when she speaks again.
“How come the Bobcats only have four guys on the ice but the white team has five?”
Thanks to my best friend being a total badass, I’ve watched enough hockey games to know the answer to this question.
“One of the players on the Bobcats got a penalty. He has to go sit in the penalty box for two minutes.” I point to the box where Jefferson is currently squirting water onto his head.
“OOOOOO. Kyle is in timeout,” Sophia says, as if she’s teasing a classmate who just got in trouble.
This girl is too damn cute. I know she’s super close with Connor, but now I wonder if she calls all the guys by their first names. “Yep, he sure is, Sophia. Do you know all the players on your dad’s team?
Sophia shoves another handful of popcorn in her mouth,not bothering to swallow it all before answering my question. “Mm-hmm. They all come over for family dinner sometimes. They’re my family, you know.” Bits and pieces of popcorn go flying as she continues to talk. “I love having so many people in my family, but…”
Sophia’s words trail off and she scrunches her nose up. It’s the same thing I do when I’m trying to fight off tears. As if on cue, a tear falls down Sophia’s cheek and into her bucket of popcorn.
As quickly as I can, I put my water in my cup holder and kneel down in front of her. “Hey. What’s wrong sweet girl?”
Sophia uses the back of her hand to wipe the tear away. She’s looking down into her popcorn, looking far more embarrassed than any four-year-old should possibly feel. I give her time to work through her big emotions, brushing my thumb back and forth across her knee, not wanting to push for information. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.Ifshe’s ready.
I’m not sure how long I stay crouched in front of her as Sophia silently cries to herself. It must be at least two minutes because I hear the crowd go wild after the announcer says,“The Bobcats are now back at full strength.”
Sophia finally looks up from her popcorn. Her hazel eyes are wet with tears, appearing almost dark green with her mood change. She searches my eyes, trying to decide if she wants to tell me what’s bothering her. I give her knee a little squeeze and give her some reassurance.
“You don’t have to tell me what’s bothering you if you don’t want, Sophia. But I want you to know that you can trust me.”
Sophia’s head tilts to the side and sniffles. “What does trust mean?”
I pretend to think about it for a second, tapping my chin as I’m deep in thought. “Trust means that if you tell me something, I promise to listen. Also, if it’s something you don’t want me to share with anyone else, I won’t. Your words aresafe with me. But if I think it’s important you tell your dad, well, then maybe we can work together to figure out a way to tell him. How does that sound?”
Sophia sniffles and then nods her head. “Okay. I trust you.”
The sincerity in her voice makes my heart leap. This little girl continues to amaze me. Taking my thumb and wiping away the last of her tears from her cheek, I ask softly, “What’s making you feel sad, Sophia?”
Sophia sets the tub of popcorn in the seat next to her and then wipes her hands down her legs. I thought she was wiping the butter away, but she continues the movement, appearing to be extremely nervous.
Seconds ago, this sweet girl was making my heart soar, and now I feel my heart cracking in my chest. What in the world has her so distraught at such a young age?
I grab her hands with mine and hold on tight. Finally, she looks up at me. When she starts talking, it’s barely above a whisper. With the noise of the arena, I need to lean in so I can hear her words.
“Why do the Bobcats love me more than my mommy loves me?”
Oh,my heart.
Without thinking, I let go of Sophia’s hands and wrap her in a hug of all hugs. “Come here, baby girl.”
This poor baby. She’s dealing with heartbreak before a girl should ever know what that feels like.
I don’t know a thing about Sophia’s mom, but I suddenly want to burn the world down to find her so I could shake her and ask her how she could let her daughter feel this way. I may also want to beat the shit out of her with my nunchucks, but that’s neither here nor there.
Sophia’s little arms wrap around my neck and squeeze me in a way that tells me she’s holding onto so much more thanjust sadness. I swear I can feel the anger, grief, and disappointment coming off her in waves.
Taking a deep breath, I try to block out the crowd around me and focus on the little girl in front of me. Looking in between her eyebrows, I try to focus on the energy and light surrounding Sophia. It takes me a moment but once my mind is centered, I finally sense it. I notice a shift in Sophia’s aura. Sophia is usually surrounded in bright color—mostly orange and yellows, indicating joy and happiness. The colors around the edges appear dull now. There’s even a dark red hue, indicating anger, that I hadn’t noticed before.
