35. Sofia
35
SOFIA
T he fact that each of them accepted my bombshell without any signs of regret is such a relief. The roiling in my stomach settles in increments. Or as much as it can settle. The first two months of my pregnancy with Noah had me sick in bed most mornings.
No longer keeping this a secret has freed me up.
I’ve been in this since Jordan and I talked through it more than a week ago. And whereas I might have been on the fence for much of the time, the doctor’s visit with my mother solidified how much I want to keep this baby.
And I am pretty sure it’s going to be a girl. For the same reason I was sure Noah was going to be a boy. Maybe that’s a coincidence, but it’s given me false confidence.
Their confirmation that they’re in this with me, too, soothes the sting of what that witch did to us.
And I know she used Leann beyond showing the clip during her big reveal.
The shift in her attitude came around the same time as the threat. Or maybe Leann went to her. Things changed after the trip to NYC.
I could have sworn no one caught us sharing a room, but I must have been wrong.
It doesn’t matter anymore.
With finals over, I’ve handed off the baton of Film Club president to Cindy after a landslide vote.
Collin cornered me and handed me his father’s card with a final shot of, “What they did was fucked up, Soph. Let him help them not get away with it.”
I hugged him. Hard.
It was a truly bittersweet moment.
And now, I’m just kind of in limbo. All three of my men are buried under papers and projects to grade, so Mom packs up Noah and me for a trip into the city to meet one of her many, many friends.
The promise of trying new foods along with getting his favorite car snack seals the deal for Noah. He’s such a good boy.
Mom is her glamorous self, even as she slides behind the wheel. Her hair sweeps into a loose braid over her shoulder, and those big bug glasses will make her look famous when we hit the streets of the city.
The funny thing is, in her world, she is famous.
Once we’re on the road and Noah is snoring softly behind us, Mom reaches over and grabs my hand. “How are you, Baby?”
I smile over at her and squeeze her hand back. “I’m okay. A little queasy. A little tired. Feeling a little lost, if I’m being honest. I had a whole other semester planned out.”
“All to be expected. You will find your path. I have faith in you.” The authority in her voice calms me a little. It’s too easy to believe her when she says things like that.
“Thanks, Mom.”
Her shoulders shimmy as she sits straighter behind the wheel. “The woman we’re meeting, Izzy Price, she’s a former student of mine, and she is always in the middle of something. I wanted you two to meet because I think she might help you find a direction.”
I laugh. “Because I’m not one to wallow.”
Mom’s laugh is low and throaty. “No, Baby. You wallow with the best of them. Just never for long.”
That sends me into a fit of near silent giggles. “When you’re right, you’re right.”
“I saw what you’ve been doing with Braxton’s little girl, Birdie? I bet she’s excited.”
Perfect topic shift. “She is, but she can’t let one viral video go to her head.”
“As I’m sure you reminded her.”
“I did. But I also told her that hard work will continue to pay off if she keeps it up.”
“Sound advice. You’ve always been so smart.” Mom’s hand finds my knee for another reassuring squeeze.
“Yes. Well, thank you, but my point is that she was already prepared for this. Birdie showed me a long list of ideas she has for her next project and how she wants to film and edit them. Talk about a brilliant little girl.” I’m so super proud of her.
And she didn’t even blink when Brax told her about us. Birdie just gave him that duh look every teenager masters early. The news of a new baby didn’t shake the foundation of her world, either.
Her only comment was that she doesn’t change diapers unless she’s being paid.
At that we both shrugged and went about our business as usual.
The chat flows easily as we make it into Midtown for some obscure café and eatery I’ve never heard of and never would have found without her.
With coffee, tea, and chocolate milk, we sit at a booth by the window, beating Mom’s friend there by a few minutes.
The moment I set eyes on Izzy, I know we’re going to get on just fine. She’s dressed in a mix of biker-Bohemian chic.
Her jet black hair is short in the back and swoops long across her forehead and left eye. She winks at me when she sits.
“The prodigal daughter, Sofia. Nice to meet you, chickie. I’m Izzy.” Her hand is cold and rough as she gives me a firm handshake. She also offers Noah her hand to shake, and he does with a grin.
“Noah.”
“Hi, Noah. I’ve heard a lot about you. Your grandma loves to brag about you and your tastebuds. This place has tapas. Do you know what that is?” It’s obvious Izzy has kids, too. She’s got the perfect tone. Not baby talk, but a bit more animated than normal.
My son shakes his head.
“It means we get a little bit” —she holds up two fingers close together and looks at him through the gap— “of a whole lot of different foods. Does that sound good?”
Noah lights up, hopping in his seat. I run my hand over his back, and he settles down after a minute.
Izzy puts in the order and turns to face me, her hands spread wide. “I saw your project, and may I just say…”
She gives me a chef’s kiss.
“I bet you had a truckload of footage to pull from based on what your mom told me about your original intention for your thesis.” It’s half a question and half a statement. Something to prod me to talk about it.
“I did. Yes.” I reach up to touch the glasses I’ve been wearing for it, but they’re not there. It pulls a soft laugh from me. “But my steady schedule helped me pull what I needed more quickly.”
She nods, and I see Mom help distract Noah with the crayons she brought and the back of the paper placemat out of the corner of my eye.
“Smart. I wonder what it would have turned into without what that woman did.” Her face is thoughtful, and I’m curious why she’s asking.
“Me, too. Maybe after a break from it, I’ll go back and turn it into what I originally intended.” Right now, that idea seems far away. Time off is definitely the only thing I have planned for the foreseeable future.
At least, for a little while.
“So you’re between things.” The sly look in her dark eyes has me raising my brow.
“I guess so?”
“Oma, did you tell her anything before you brought her here?” A sharp look is shot my mother’s way.
“No, darling. I thought I would leave that to you. It is your idea, after all.”
What is going on here? And why do I suddenly feel as though I’ve been set up? When Mom mentioned that she might help me find a direction, I didn’t think she meant what seems to be happening right now.
With a hefty sigh, Izzy turns back to me and crosses her arms. “Well, I don’t suppose I should have expected anything less with how well I know your mother.”
“It would be wise to be wary.” I smirk at how Mom’s spine straightens on the other side of my son.
Her elegant fingers brush through his hair affectionately. “A leopard changes her spots for no one, baby.”
I share a knowing look with Izzy and nod to her. “Go on and tell me about what you’re working on.”
As it turns out, Izzy is not just Mom’s former student. She’s a film producer, and she has a big new project she’s about to start. It’s a historical reenactment adapted into a modern reality TV style to appeal to new waves of educational content for youth. Something that will connect to teach.
And honestly, it sounds fascinating. I would have paid better attention in history if they’d done something fun like this.
“I love the sound of this. How far into it are you?” I’m chowing down on a mini meatball, trying not to laugh at how enthusiastic Noah is being about all of the little things on his plate. He keeps asking Mom, What’s that?
“Well, that’s the thing. We’ve just gotten funding, and I’m in need of a First Assistant Director and Set Manager. Among other things.”
I blink at her for a moment, wondering if I’m putting this all together right. “What kind of other things?”
“Help building a team, a set, hiring actors, the whole shebang. And I want you to help me. If you’re up for it.” Izzy pins me with her gaze for a long few seconds.
I wasn’t imagining things. Okay . “Why me?”
She shrugs. “Like I said, I’m impressed by the video you put out. The attention to story and authenticity and character arcs in such a short time frame. And I hear you put it together in two days. That’s the kind of talent I want on my team, helping me run my team.”
I laugh—part bewilderment and part relief.
“It sounds like fun, but I do have to warn you, I am pregnant. That means no crazy schedule.”
“I can accommodate that. Are you good at delegating?”
“I am. And you say you need to build the entire team? From scratch?”
Izzy lets a slow grin form on her face. “I do.”
“So you have room for another expert.” I lean in and tell her about Orion. Even if he doesn’t lose his job, I’m not sure he’s comfortable at the university anymore. So I lay down his work, his connection to Dickie Hernandez—it’s never bad to drop a big name when you’re asking a favor.
Immediately, I can tell she’s on board. “Let’s meet in a week to discuss further. When the men are not so busy. I want to see if they hold up in person.”
It’s a plan.
I can’t tamp down my excitement and have to call Orion. Izzy laughs as I do it right at the table. If she’s bluffing me, she'd better call it now.
Because when he picks up the phone, the first thing I say is, “I’ve got good news.”