35. Bex #2
Sofia mouths "Speaker?" at me, as if seeking permission. I hesitate, but then she shrugs and presses the button anyway. If I'd known she was going to do that so fast, I might have waved her off.
Lucia's voice comes through the speaker, faint with static. "Sofia, hello. Have you seen your sister lately?"
I lock eyes with Sofia, my stomach flipping. She presses her lips together. "Yes, she's actually here," she manages.
A pause. And all four of us freeze. Even Jordan goes still.
Lucia's voice pipes up again, sounding carefully casual, like she's reading a script. "Is she alone?"
Now my skin goes clammy. Sofia's eyes fly wide.
Kit sucks in a breath, shifting in her seat. Her palm flattens on the table. And that's when she snaps into what I recognize as her polished manage-the-crisis mode, the same mode that once wrangled uncooperative caterers and rowdy bachelorette parties.
"Hello, Mrs. Russo," she says, leaning forward. Her voice is smooth. "This is Kit Bennett. We met briefly at Hollyvale."
Another pause. You can hear the background hum of Lucia's TV in the static. Then Lucia replies, "Katerina. Yes. Are you and Rebecca?"
The question hangs. "Mamma," I repeat, "we need to talk to you, but not right this second. We'll call you back."
Silence, then Lucia starts to say something else, but I tap the red icon on Sofia's phone, ending the call. My pulse hammers, and I stare at the device like it might bite me if I move.
A hush descends. Then Jordan blows out a long breath, crossing to flick on the kettle again. "Well," they say calmly, "that was eventful."
Sofia presses a palm to her forehead. "Sorry for that. I had no idea she'd jump right into interrogation mode."
Kit shakes her head like she's brushing off an apology. She gazes at me with concern. "You okay?"
I force a laugh that comes out scratchier than I intend. "Sure. I just love surprise calls from my mother asking if I'm alone. Totally normal."
My attempt at sarcasm doesn't quite hide the nerves tightening in my chest. Kit reaches under the table and brushes her fingers against my wrist. I don't pull away.
Sofia clears her throat. "So. This might accelerate the timeline for telling them the bigger news."
I drop my head back against the chair, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah, probably."
Jordan sets four fresh mugs down, then nudges the teapot onto a trivet at the center of the table. We each pour ourselves some, though nobody seems too eager to drink.
"Look," Sofia says carefully, "Mom and Dad are curious about your life in a way they never were before. That's a double-edged thing. On one hand, they might be more open. On the other, they might bulldoze you with questions."
Kit's jaw flexes, but she keeps her voice calm. "If we can frame it as something we both chose, something we want to keep, maybe it'll land better. I don't exactly have experience dealing with your parents long-term, but they clearly love you."
I exhale. "Yeah. In their own complicated way."
The four of us sit there, letting the tension settle. I realize my hand has curled into a fist on my thigh. I open it, placing it on the table's surface.
No one speaks for a few beats. Then, quietly, Sofia slides the pastry box across to me. "Eat something, Bex," she says, almost motherly. "Sugar helps with stress."
I snort, but take a small pastry anyway, nibbling on a corner. The sweetness is too rich, but it grounds me.
Kit gently taps her nails on the table, the small metallic clack a detail I somehow notice even in my frazzled state.
I think about how she's been in Brooklyn twice more this week, once to help me reorder supplies for the shop, once just to hang out in my living room and talk about the future.
We haven't given that pattern a name, but it's definitely a pattern.
I like it, but it also terrifies me. We're building a routine. Which means going public with my parents.
I turn to Sofia. "Thanks for hearing us out. And for not, you know, flipping out of your seat."
She offers a weary grin. "I considered it. But if anything, I'm happy you're not just floating in heartbreak land. This fiasco might be insane, but from the looks of it." She glances at Kit. "It might also be real."
Kit's cheeks tint at Sofia's direct gaze, and she gives a small nod. "We think so."
Jordan sips their tea, then sets the mug down. "We're here for you both. Whatever that looks like. If your parents freak out, you can always crash here. And we'll feed you leftover pastries."
"Or we'll go meet them ourselves," Sofia adds with a wry smile. "Though that might be the nuclear option. Four loud opinions in one room? That's borderline planetary chaos."
That finally makes me chuckle. I shake my head, the knot in my chest loosening a bit. "We'll try the calmer approach. A Sunday dinner, maybe."
Kit nods, exhaling. "Bex and I can figure out a plan after we decompress from today's revelation." She hesitates, eyes flicking to me with a question.
I return a slight smile. I appreciate that she's letting me lead this. They're my parents. My complicated baggage. But now it's ours, in a sense.
We sit in that quiet camaraderie for a bit longer, sipping tea, picking at pastries. I let some tension drip off my shoulders, comforted by Sofia's surprising acceptance and Jordan's unwavering good humor.
The phone sits on the table, face down. We all eye it like it might ring again.