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I put the car in park. “And if it wasn’t for you,” I say, “we wouldn’t be so far along with the renovations. Half the place is already done and it’s thanks to you.”
She grins. “I can’t help it. Project managing is my job and my passion.”
“I love it,” I say. “Project manage my whole life, please.”
She rubs her hands together. “Oh, I plan to!”
We check in at the main cabin and the staff greets us by name, with wide smiles. They recognize us by now. Sophia chats with the attendant leading us to our usual room. He’s telling her that the tennis court is free all afternoon, and they’ve reserved the spa area afterwards for two full hours for us.
I’d suggested we spend this weekend here, but celebrating my birthday had been her priority, not mine… because I have something different planned for us.
In the hotel room, Sophia shrugs out of her jacket and opens her suitcase. I watch as she digs through for her tennis dress. “Are you ready?” she asks, reaching for the zipper of her pants.
I lean back against the closed hotel door. Watching her hasn’t gotten old, two and a half years later. It’s only gotten better. I’ve never known closeness like this. Each of us knowing how the other thinks, respecting them fully.
It’s true partnership.
“Isaac?” she asks.
“Sorry,” I say, and push away from the door. “I’ll get ready.”
Her smile turns soft. “It’s been a busy couple of weeks,” she says.
“You could say that,” I mutter. My niece had arrived early, and couldn’t leave the hospital for the first week and a half of her life. She’d stayed there with a sleep-deprived Summer and a frazzled Anthony until she was finally given a clear bill of health.
“At least we know she’s doing great now,” Sophia says. “I still can’t get over just how tiny she was when we saw her last week. I mean, I must haveknown,because Mia was that tiny once.” She unclips her bra and throws it to the side. I don’t take my eyes off her, even as I unbutton my own shirt. “But I think you probably forget. They’re justthatsmall.”
“They are,” I agree, pulling out my own workout gear. “Emilia’s smaller than Theo was when he was born, though.”
Sophia fastens her sports bra. “She’ll catch up soon enough. She’s home now, and the doctors say everything looks fine. Summer can finally get some sleep. They’ll do great.” She smiles over at me. “It makes me think how scared I’ll be when it’s finally our turn.”
I take a deep breath. “I thought about that a lot over the past few weeks.”
“You did?”
“Yes.”
She comes to stand between my legs and rests her hands on my shoulders. “I know we haven’t been trying for long,” she murmurs. “But even seeing what Summer just went through… holding Emilia afterwards must be worth it. She definitely thinks so!”
I smile at her, this woman I care about more than my own life. “I just don’t like the idea of you in any kind of pain,” I say. “Worth it or not.”
Sophia raises an eyebrow. “Can’t say I’m super stoked on the idea either, but you know what I am really excited for?”
“Yes,” I say, and pull her closer. “A baby.”
She nods, her smile widening. “Just imagine,” she whispers.
I kiss her, thoroughly and slowly, and settle my hands around her waist. Imagining it wasn’t difficult at all. I’d gone from seeing kids as a distant possibility, to then very unlikely, and now something I really wanted.
And it’s all because of her.
We play tennis together for an hour before going to the spa. It’s something I never cared for before, never had the time, but swimming in the heated pool is nice on sore muscles. So is using the sauna and steeping in the jacuzzi.
Sophia rests beside me in the hot water, her hair wet against my shoulder. She has her eyes closed and I look down at her familiar features, her skin still holding a faint tan from our January trip to the Winter Resort in Barbados
She looks relaxed. Beautiful and familiar andmine,I think. And I know that I’d planned on doing this differently. That it was supposed to be over dinner, romantic and special, with the velvet box I’d brought with me pushed over the table.
But sitting here, with the view of the lake and her next to me, I know that’s not right. That’s the traditional way. That’s the way, I think wryly, Percy had proposed. He’d hidden the ring in her dessert in a Manhattan restaurant and gone down on one knee, the entire restaurant clapping, and Sophia had been mortified. That’s how I’d proposed to Cordelia, too.
