Sophie (The Boss 8)

I went to him and put my hand on his arm, the other on his shoulder, forcing him to meet my eyes. "This is going to be fine. Maybe you're right. Maybe Valerie should be my priority. It will leave you free to worry about Olivia. We just need to take this one step at a time.”

Then, Neil said the two words in the English language that he found hardest to say: "I'm frightened."

"I know you are." I was frightened, too. Frightened that we'd been selfish, thinking we could force everyone to be positive and accepting of our unconventional family. Scared that Valerie and Laurence were right, that we were screwing up Olivia. "I've been afraid from the moment we brought Olivia home with us and terrified that I'm not doing what's right for her. Afraid that my not wanting to be a mom, that opting out of being a mom was somehow hurting these girls. This is the hardest thing in my life that I've ever done, and you know we've been through some terrible stuff. But we don't have to have all of this settled and figured out today. We don't even have to have it figured out a week from now. It's going to be one long, frustrating, hellish march from here to what we ultimately want. But we've done that before. And we can do it again."

"And now, there's an extra brain to take on a third of the stress," El-Mudad said with a soft laugh.

I turned to him and tried to smile, but the expression just couldn't make it through. "You were included in that 'we'."

Neil took a deep breath of resolve, drew up his sagging shoulders, and said, "Every long march begins with a single step, isn’t that it?"

"Let's not call it a 'long march,'" El-Mudad corrected him. "This is a journey. Our destination is...somewhere better than we are now."

"So, how do we push this boat into the water?" I was not going to captain this particular ship.

"I suppose we ask Olivia and Rashida and Amal what they think. But perhaps it should wait until our guest has gone?" Neil suggested.

. "I kinda forgot we had a Molly in the equation right now. Does that make me a bad sister?"

"It makes you an adult who's overwhelmed with your afternoon. Let's not make this all about Sophie’s deficiencies," Neil chided.

Chastened, I said, "Well, I'm not sure Molly is going to want to be witness to this particular conversation about someone getting a brand-new dad. Not when she lost her father at a young age. We need somewhere that's neutral ground, where we can talk to the girls in a different atmosphere.”

"Quite right," Neil agreed. "Sophie, you could spend some one-on-one time with Molly while El-Mudad and I speak to Rashida and Amal. I think we should discuss this with Olivia last. If things don't work out..."

“Let’s take a trip,” El-Mudad suggested, entirely out of the ether. “Tomorrow. We’ll go to Belize and stay on the yacht.”

“Tomorrow? I mean, as someone who habitually runs from her problems, I’m impressed. But it’s not practical. We can’t leave Molly behind. There’s no way to get her a passport overnight,” I pointed out.

“Does Molly have a passport?” Neil asked.

El-Mudad took out his phone.

“What are you doing?” Had they both lost their minds?

Ignoring me, El-Mudad asked into the phone, “Ask Molly if she has a passport.”

He’d called one of the girls to check?

“It doesn’t matter why. Just ask her.”

As he paused for the answer, Neil put his hand on my arm. “We don’t know when Valerie and Laurence are going to make a move. Once we begin adoption proceedings—if we do—and after a case is opened, taking Olivia on a vacation is going to be a time-consuming legal hassle. Why don’t we take the opportunity now?”

“If we leave before they find out, they won’t have time to file anything against us,” I said with a sigh. “I understand that. But everything is so overwhelming. I’m not going anywhere tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere until I talk to Rudy. That’s more important.”

“It’s not overwhelming,” El-Mudad protested because he was way more used to spontaneous luxury travel than I was. “My friend has a private island near Cuba that I’m sure we can use. You meet Rudy for lunch this weekend, and we’ll leave after that. We could meet the boat in Belize, sail for the island, enjoy a few days on the beach, then dock in Miami and fly home.”

“Let us take care of it,” Neil said, squeezing my shoulder. “All you need to do is show up.”

The lure of soft sand and crystal-clear water led my brain straight into a trap I couldn’t escape. Were we wrapping ourselves in the denial of a fun excursion rather than face the horrible metaphorical journey ahead of us? Or were we making a healthy choice, giving ourselves some time to relax before the terribly difficult emotional trials to come?