“Hey, you okay?” It took Karen touching her arm to get her attention. She and her friend made time for a catch-up first thing Mondays, but Karen seemed to know by glancing at her face that Sofia was in no mood to perch on the back of a chair and discuss their weekends.
“Let’s go to my office,” Karen murmured, steering Sofia to her tiny but private admin assistant room.
“You’re not okay,” Karen said, closing the door. She used her firm voice when she demanded, “We haven’t caught up in a while, and I want to know what’s going on. You’ve been weird. Talk to me.”
Sofia took a deep breath. She’d been keeping everything to herself, but she felt like she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Remember that guy I met at the bar that night we were out together? Ian?”
"How could I forget?” Karen asked.
“We hooked up, and I…I’m pregnant, and I just broke up with him,” Sofia blurted out. She clapped her hand over her mouth, not believing what had tumbled out. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she blinked at Karen through a watery film.
“You’re pregnant? Oh my gosh, I had no idea.” Karen’s voice was soothing, and the tissue she pulled from her pocket a godsend. As Sofia dabbed at her eyes, Karen looped an arm around her and half-rubbed, half-patted her back. When that didn’t stem the flow of tears, she drew Sofia to her and hugged her, making soothing noises.
“You know…” Karen hesitated, then went on, “if you’re this upset about a breakup, maybe you should rethink it? You’ve been through a lot in a short time. A new relationship and a baby? You’re bound to hit some speed bumps.”
Sofia pulled away, taking the extra tissues Karen held out. She mopped her eyes. “That won’t work.” She’d been turning things over in her mind all weekend, nonstop, every waking and trying-to-sleep moment. While she could maybe, possibly, admit to herself that she might have given up too easily—a common problem for her when it came to romance—she also didn’t see how going back would fix anything. Not if Ian was just going to keep shutting her out. Aching with regret, she continued, “We don’t know how to relate to each other. He’s so closed off. And what about me? The child of a crappy, broken relationship? What do I know about making a relationship last long-term? Besides, I never want to feel this way about anybody.”
It was like coming apart at the seams. No, being ripped apart at the seams.
Karen nodded, her eyes never leaving her friend’s face as if reading the play of emotion there. “I hear what you’re saying, but your heart knows what it wants, you hear me? And trying to deny it will only cause you pain in the long run. And I don’t want that for my friend.” She took a Kleenex and dabbed at Sofia’s nose.
Sofia felt the words register and sink down into her brain, to sit on top of all the stuff she’d been churning over there. “Thanks, Karen,” she said after a while. She hiccupped and dabbed her eyes again. “Ugh, I’d better go.”
“Here.” Karen slipped a couple more tissues into Sofia’s pocket, then, stooping down to her under-the-desk fridge, slid out a bottle of water for her too. She waggled a finger at Sofia. “And you pop back in here anytime you need to talk, or a place to catch your breath, you hear?”
Sofia nodded, thankful to have such a good friend, and hoped she could pull herself together for the rest of the day.
* * *
Ian put the plates on the table at the same time as Gavin appeared at the kitchen door, no doubt intending to grab something and go. No. Not this time. Not after a weekend of doing just that. Oh, sure, yesterday, Sunday, they’d sat down to dinner together, but occupying the same room wasn’t exactly the same as truly being together, and they certainly hadn’t communicated.
“Gavin.” Ian beckoned him in. “Sit down. I made breakfast.”
Gavin’s eyes popped at the sight of the full plates. “Way too much food,” he mumbled.
“Yeah,” Ian admitted. Two sorts of eggs along with bacon and hash browns might have been overkill but… He chuckled.
“When you were a kid and your mom used to ask what eggs you wanted, scrambled or fried, you used to say ‘Yes,’” he reminded his son, who stood warily in the doorway. “Gav, please sit.”
He went to take out the orange juice and when he returned to the table, Gavin was sitting. Ian felt like doing a victory dance. “We need to talk,” he said.
The clattering noise was Gavin’s fork dropping to the plate.
“No”—Ian held up a hand to stop Gavin from bolting—“I really mean it. I want us to talk, not just me lecture. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop, and what I want is for you to tell me everything that you’ve been feeling. Even if you’ve been holding back because you think it will hurt my feelings, or get me mad, or that I won’t understand anyway. Because I can’t start trying to fix anything unless I know it all, and believe me, I want more than anything to fix things.” His voice almost broke on the last few words.
Gavin hesitated, then looked down at the table. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Please don’t play this down. Open up. I can take it.” He hoped.
Gavin still didn’t reply, but forked up some eggs, then picked up a strip of bacon and chewed it.
“Gavin?” Ian coaxed.
“Okay.” Gavin shoved a hash brown topped with a fried egg into his mouth and wiped his hands. He started speaking before he’d finished chewing. “I feel you abandoned me. Like you always have. When you were in the SEALs and when you came out. I wouldn’t even be here, staying with you, if Mom didn’t have to go sort out this snafu with Wolfgang’s visa. And I’m angry that you’d even consider having another child after the way you were never around for me. That makes me feel like crap.” He paused to suck in a breath. “I don’t know how long it will be before Mom gets back, and I don’t know if my stepfather will want me around either. So what I want to do is make my own money and get out on my own, like S-Man.”
Ian didn’t speak when his son finished, but sat there, absorbing all that his son was feeling. Each new admission was a knife through his heart. But he pushed past the pain he was feeling to concentrate on how his kid was suffering. That was what had to be fixed first. Which meant this wasn’t the time to get on the defensive. This wasn’t about him. He needed to focus on what was best for Gavin.