34. Sophie
THIRTY-FOUR
SOPHIE
“It’s so amazing to finally meet you.” Maya extends a hand to Foster when we arrive at the restaurant, hand in hand because it’s easier to pretend at this point than to not. “Fuck, you’re tall. Soph didn’t mention how tall you were.”
“I’ve heard lots about you.” Foster looks over at me with a smirk. “And I’m shocked, that’s usually the first thing people mention. That or my—” He gestures at his red hair.
“I like him,” Maya says approvingly as her eyes do a full scan of him. It makes me want to demand she stop looking at him like that or immediately scratch her eyes out so she doesn’t even have the chance to.
“Is lamp man joining us?” I ask, looking around, hoping to draw her attention away from my… my what? My friend?
“He’ll be here soon.” She blushes. It has been three years since she was in anything that resembled a relationship, and even then it took her twice as long to introduce us to the guy. The fact we’re meeting Davis after about a month is a big deal. “Do me a favor, though, don’t mention the lamps? He’s not aware how free I am with information.”
“He probably knows,” Foster says.
“No way,” Maya scoffs.
“Most guys assume women are like the characters on Sex and the City . It’s why a lot of guys have performance anxiety these days.”
“Do they also still think we have pillow fights in our underwear?” I ask.
“You don’t?” Foster asks, eyebrows raised, eyes wide, and I’m momentarily stuck in those sharp eyes.
“There he is,” Maya practically squeals, pushing past us to greet a guy. A very short guy.
“That guy breaks lamps in bed?” Foster whispers, his warm breath brushing against my skin.
Davis is topping the height chart at max five five.
“Maybe it’s got nothing to do with, um, length of anything. He does look bendy.”
“Sophie, Foster, this is Davis. Davis, this is my friend Sophie and her… ugh, what are you exactly?” Maya asks, squinting up at Foster.
Foster looks down at me, his eyes wide in question. “He’s my friend,” I say slowly. Because introducing him as my friend who is also helping me out with intimacy doesn’t really roll off the tongue quite right.
Davis smiles brightly and taps his nose. “Friends.” He looks down at our hands that are clasped back together. “Right.”
“Good friends. Lifelong, some might say,” Foster adds, giving my hand a little squeeze.
“Holy shit, you are tall.” Yas practically skips over to introduce herself to Foster, barely looking at the rest of us.
“So I’ve heard,” he replies like the good sport he is.
“Yasmine.” I watch as they shake hands, but unlike Maya, Yas looks over at me, her grin letting me know she approves. “And you must be Davis?” She pulls her hand from Foster’s and offers it up to the much shorter man.
“Nice to meet you.”
Yas steps back and sizes the two men up. “You know, you two have all the hallmarks of a buddy cop duo.” She waves at their obvious height difference.
“I have been looking for a really tall buddy.” Davis looks up at Foster. “You wanna audition for the role?”
“Depends. What’s the role entail?”
“Watching a game here or there, the odd trip to a bar to not talk about feelings, and occasionally reaching for something on a high shelf.”
“Hmm,” Foster contemplates. “Can we throw in you reaching for stuff on the ground?”
“Seems fair.” Davis shoots a hand out, and they shake.
Yasmine and Maya look over at me, absolutely beaming. “It’s going well,” Maya mouths.
“I wish Miguel was here.” Yas sighs. “Soon though,” she adds happily.
I wasn’t worried about things not going well. Foster is one of those guys everyone likes. The kind your friends beg you to stay with so they don’t have to choose between the two of you if it ends. I had to try so hard with Gregory despite the accomplishments of my friends. They weren’t at his “level,” and he always seemed a bit like he smelled something off the entire time we’d be out. But heaven forbid I didn’t invite him. I’d hear about it for days. About how I should want him there with me, that’s what couples do, they go out together. And every time I’d feel awful and invite him the next time, and with each outing my friends said less and less while the looks became more and more concerned. It wasn’t only me walking on eggshells around him, it was everyone.
“Hey.” Foster’s light touch on my cheek has me turning and blinking in his direction. Visions of Gregory fade, and in their place it’s just Foster.
“Hi,” I say quietly.
“You okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum, forcing a smile.
“Great, tell the poor guy what you want to eat,” Yas says, and I look up to see our server smiling awkwardly at me.
“Oh, shit, sorry. I was miles away. I’ll have the eggs Florentine, please.”
“With breakfast potatoes or greens?”
“Serious question.” I lean forward. “Does anyone ever say the greens?”
He thinks. “Happens occasionally.”
“Well, today isn’t going to be an occasion.”
“Good choice. And for you, sir?” He turns his focus to Foster.
“I’m going to have the chicken and waffles please, but with the hot sauce on the side.”
“Sure.”
“Also, I’ll get a side of the potatoes. I’m assuming they’re great since everyone got them.”
“You’d assume correctly.”
Once the server leaves, Yasmine updates us on her wedding and how Miguel is doing.
“That reminds me, will you be back to two for your RSVP?” Yas eyes Foster.
“Oh, um, I don’t know. Do you want to go to a wedding with me?”
Foster looks at me like I’ve lost it. Like I’ve done the impossible and asked a stupid question. “I want to go everywhere with you,” he says matter-of-factly, tucking that stubborn lock of hair back behind my ear, causing everyone at the table to sigh, including Davis. The combination of his words and the graze of his fingers has me tightening my hand around my water glass as my body reacts in a not-so-appropriate manner.
I can feel my face heat, and I know my blush is visible to everyone around me. There are probably satellites registering it this very minute.
He plays his role well. Some woman is going to be wildly happy one day.
Could be me , a hopeful little voice comes to life.
“It’s at a winery in Niagara,” Yas says dreamily. “We wanted to keep it small and simple. Good food, good wine, no pressure. Miguel has even seen me in my dress,” she laughs.
“Wait, what?” Davis sputters, mid-sip.
Yas smiles. “We don’t waste time. There’s no guarantee of tomorrow for Miguel. Even after a successful transplant, things could go downhill quickly. I wanted to see his reaction now.”
“I like that,” Foster says. “It should be about what works for you and not about superstitions.”
When our meals come, Foster immediately offers me a bite. Gregory did that in the beginning too. But he wouldn’t have asked for the hot sauce on the side. He would have goaded me into trying it and then smirked as I battled the unpleasant burn in my mouth, chastising me for something I had no control over. Foster, on the other hand, dips each forkful into the hot sauce. He doesn’t have to say that he’s welcoming me to help myself; it’s as clear as day in everything he does.
After I finish my potatoes, he slides over his side plate still stacked high with the seasoned crispy delights, while chatting with Yasmine about Miguel’s transplant. It’s the fact he’s very much engaged with my friend while also aware of me that has me rising and practically running to the washroom. Yet again.
Standing over the sink, holding onto the sides, I take deep stuttering breaths. Foster’s goodness. His attentiveness. The way he touches me and listens to me shines a light on what my life had been like for so many years. It illuminates all the deep cracks of toxic behavior I either couldn’t see or refused to acknowledge.
The door opens, and I look up to see Maya.
“I’ll be out in a minute.” I force a smile, and I’m met with a skeptical look.
“There’s no rush.” She shrugs, joining me at the sink and catching my gaze in the mirror. “He’s special,” she says.
“I know.”
“Is that why you’re hiding in the bathroom? Because you know he’s special?”
I shake my head, my shoulders dropping. “I’m hiding in the bathroom because it hit me how fucked up my relationship with Gregory really was.”
“Just realizing it, eh? You spent a lot of time in denial, my friend.”
“I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to, I don’t know, fail.”
Maya pulls me into her arms without a word and squeezes me tightly. “Staying in a relationship that is not good for you isn’t succeeding, my love. Leaving it was not a fail.”
“But I didn’t leave it.” I pull back as tears finally break through. “He did. I didn’t have a choice. I would have stayed.”
“You don’t know that,” she insists, rubbing her hands up and down my upper arms. “You would have still met Foster.”
I shake my head slowly. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
No, because I never would have applied for that job if I’d still been with Gregory. I’m doing what I always wanted to do now, but for years he’d convinced me that my calling was to be the head of some agency or another. He wanted us both to be the head of something. Equals, he’d said countless times. But when I look back, I’m not so sure he actually realized what the word meant.
“Sophie?”
“My path changed when he kicked me out, that’s all.” I wash my hands, if only to do something with them. “I don’t want Foster to worry. Let’s go back.” I dry my hands and head for the door, only to have Maya’s hand wrap around my arm and pull me back.
“Promise me one thing.”
“Maybe.”
“Be honest with yourself when it comes to whatever this thing is with him.”
“I am.”
Her expression screams bullshit. “You’re not, and we both know it. You’re not there yet, not ready to be.”
We stand there, staring at each other until her hand drops, a silent understanding reached before we head back to our table. I know exactly what I want. But I also need to respect what it is I need.
The minute we come into view of the table I sense Foster’s eyes on me, concern etched across his handsome face.
I am fucked.