Page 70 of Wildflowers and Wide Receivers

Sophie hears what I’m saying without saying it—that I’m excited to spend more time with her. That I want to spend a lot of time with her.

“So where are we going first?”

“Santoro’s Pizzeria.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Exactly.”

Chapter 28

Sophie

During the flight to Minneapolis, I think about Jonah and Vivi when I should have focused on interview questions. Three nights this week, we got together to go eat pizza, and they were three of the best nights ever. We told stories, we laughed, and we stuffed our faces. I was in heaven.

For years, I have known that I was going to work with kids. I love kids; otherwise, I never would have chosen them as my profession, but I can honestly say that I’ve never really given much thought to my own kids. Did I think I would have them one day? Yes. Of course. But that is where my vision ended. Graduate med school. Get a job back in Minneapolis. Get married. Have a family. That was basically the order I had planned for my life. When I met Mr. Right, it didn’t matter. But not once in my dream did it occur to me that Mr. Right might not want to live in Minneapolis, or that he might already have a child.

And Vivi, I don’t even know how to talk about her without my heart feeling like it’s going to explode. She is so beautiful and sweet, hardworking and kind, and most of all, I think she’s brave. Whether we’re fifty or five, losing our loved ones is hard. It takes a lot of inner strength not to drown in the sadness and just keep going. And that’s what she’s doing. I know it’s been hard for her. Jonah and I have talked about it, but she’s doing it every day, and I’m so proud of her. I didn’t expect to find them, and I certainly didn’t expect to be falling in love with them.

I’ve thought a lot about what would have happened if Jonah and I became a thing two years ago. Would that have changed my dreams, or would they still be the same? I’ve never not considered ultimately ending up where my dad is. If there was no Vivi, would we have done the long-distance thing, or would I have stayed with him, knowing I’d end up with him? I don’t know. The shoulda, coulda, woulda, and what-ifs don’t really matter because that’s not where we are, but I think about them because I feel like they would guide me on how I should navigate this. Am I putting the cart before the horse? Absolutely, but there’s not just me to consider or him. There’s her too.

The plane lands, and I stare out at the familiar landscape. How many times have I made this trip over the years? And if I move here, how many times will I be making it in reverse to get to Tampa? It’s crazy because I have been looking forward to this moment for what feels like my whole life, and now that it’s here, I feel uneasy. Off. Like something is out of place, missing, or I forgot something.

I also feel guilty for not telling Jonah the true reason for coming. While I’m seeing my dad, he was not the real reason for coming here. I told a half-truth, and it feels wrong.

I know Jonah would be happy for me; it’s just we haven’t had the talk yet. Then again, I don’t know if we will. We’re kind of just falling into this life together, and if it was anyone else but me, this wouldn’t be an issue. But it is. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that it’s only been a few weeks because it feels so much longer. If I’m being honest with myself, it feels like years.

My mind drifts to Vivi and the first time I met her in my office. The first time I saw him in over two years. Really, what are the odds? Of all the orthopedic rooms in Tampa, how did they end up in mine? Then there’s the running into them in Hyde Park Village, the baby shower with her, her recital, and then our amazing weekend at the beach. It was so easy for the three of us to become one unit. There were no awkward moments and no getting-to-know-you phase—we just were. And don’t get me started on her poster. She was so proud and excited to show it to me. She wants me around, and she wants me to be a part of their life.

As I exit security and walk into the center concourse, I immediately find my dad. He’s smiling from ear to ear, wearing his typical attire of jeans and a Minnesota Twins T-shirt, and he’s so familiar to me that my eyes sting.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says as I walk straight to him, and he wraps me in his arms. “It’s so good to see you.” His familiar scent of Old Spice surrounds me, and just for this split second, every fear, every worry, every plan slips away. It’s just me and him like it’s always been.

“Ah, Dad, I missed you,” I tell him, and I mean it. I hate that it’s been so long. It seems like the more time passes, the fewer times we get together.

But then my mind shifts because I also miss the two I left behind. It hasn’t even been a day yet since I’ve seen them, but I could be back there with them now, spending the day with them, exploring something new. Instead, I’m here, following my dreams.

At least this is what I keep telling myself.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he says. “Are you excited?” He looks me over from head to toe. He’s looking thinner, and I’m almost tempted to ask him why, but I don’t.

“I am,” I tell him while smiling when I’m weirdly not. My heart is just not into it.

“Well, I’m excited too. Just the thought of finally having you back home where I get to see you more often, we’re almost there. After all these years, I have a good feeling about this.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and we walk toward the parking garage. “How was the flight?”

“Quick and easy,” I tell him, not really wanting to talk about anything more.

Eventually, we find ourselves standing in front of a brand-new, big black truck. When I make a comment about it, he just shrugs and says it was time. For years, he drove the same one and never talked about getting anything new. I thought he loved it, but now I’m starting to wonder if he was keeping his money to help me out through school.

We climb in and take off.

June in the north is such a pretty month. Most of the humidity hasn’t settled in yet, so the highs are in the low eighties, and the lows are in the sixties. I crack my window and breathe in the cool air. The grass and the trees are different here. A hint of clover is in the air, and it feels nostalgic. When I came home during college, my eyes would water with happiness and a sense of relief over this smell. Now, it feels more like a childhood memory than a present one.

“Thanks for offering your truck today. I’m not sure how long I’ll be there. If you want, I can grab a rideshare.”

The two partners interviewing me were gracious enough to offer me a Saturday interview. As they both know, once schedules are locked and surgeries are booked, it’s hard for someone like us to just take a day off, so I’m meeting them at two o’clock this afternoon.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He glances at me like I’m crazy. “This baby is all yours.”