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To my surprise, Brett's intensity melts, replaced with that old familiar smirk. "Yeah. You're the daughter?"
"Yeah." She eyes him up and down. And as her mother, I notice her cheeks sucking inward. I know her well enough to know she's struggling to hold back a smile. "Wow," she finally says. "My Mom sure has a type, doesn't she?"
I flush, smiling in embarrassment. "Soph, stop it."
"What does that mean?" Brett asks, his smirk growing. The old Brett returning right before my eyes.
"Oh, you know," Sophia says. "Tall. Dark. Incredibly handsome."
"Really?" Brett raises an eyebrow at me, obviously finding all of this very funny. "Handsome?"
"Don't act so humble," I tease, elbowing him in the side.
He chuckles. "I'm just saying there's a good number of handsome men here in Texas. Guess I got to keep my eye on you."
And even though I can tell she's still holding back a smile, Sophia makes an annoyed sound in the back of her throat. "C'mon, you guys. It's dinner time, and I should eat. Don't make me sick."
We stop at a local bistro for dinner, despite Brett's insistence that we go back to the Sandcastle Steakhouse. But with my daughter home after almost a year away, I just want something simple and fast. I slide in beside her in one of the red booths and snuggle against her, laughing as she tries to push me away in embarrassment. Brett sits across the table from us, his foot settling against mine underneath the table.
The waitress arrives, beaming at us, our menus in hand. "Aww, what a happy little family," she says.
To my surprise, Brett doesn't move to correct her use of the word "family." Sophia looks at me as if expecting me to speak up when Brett doesn't. But I say nothing. I let the word hang in the air, giving a wonderful weight to our sweet little threesome. I like it a lot.
After our orders are taken, Sophia gulps down her complimentary glass of water like a suffocating fish.
"Here," Brett says, pushing his water closer to her. "Have mine too. No doubt you're parched from the plane ride."
Sophia pauses, lowering her cup and eyeing him again, still looking for any sign that he's not what he seems. But eventually, she accepts his offer, pulling the cup closer.
"Thanks," she says simply, finishing her first glass. "So, Brett. What do you do for a living?"
"I work for an investment firm in Houston. I just made partner."
She nods. "Hm. Make a lot of money?"
"Yep," he says, the corner of his mouth sliding upward. "Rolling in the big bucks. That's how I can afford to fly down and see your mom every weekend."
Sophia nods, giving me a little sideways glance of approval.
I bite the inside of my cheek, sucking them in just like she did as I struggle to keep from laughing. I knew having the two of them meet for the first time would be a little awkward. But it's not at all like what I expected it would be. Instead of arguing and pestering, or even just agitated silence, there's this silly reversal of roles.
When Sophia first started dating as a teenager, I would grill every boy that came to our door, trying to figure out if he was worth a second of my daughter's time. And now here she is, trying to do the same for me with my boyfriend. I snuggle closer to her, feeling safe again now that she's around. Feeling whole.
Even with the bakery falling through my fingers after just a year, for the first time since the landlord's letter, I feel a small sense of peace. If I were to lose everything, I would still have Brett, and I would still have my darling Sophia. I would still have Sheila and Paul and the kids. My gifts from the universe.
My little hodgepodge family.
No matter how bleak things have been, I know this for certain. And it's a very comforting thing to know.
Sophia and Brett continue like this for several minutes. Through her, I learn his parents' names, his middle name and his brother's, the day of the week he was born, and his favorite wrestler growing up. Not even our food arriving at the table can slow Sophia down. Instead, she continues to pester him with questions, even with a bite of Monte Cristo tucked into her cheek.
Once she feels she's done, Sophia finally turns to me with a sigh and gives a brief nod. "That's all I got," she announces. "You did good, Mom. I can't find anything wrong with this one."
"Good to hear," I say, meeting Brett's eyes and returning his smirk. Beneath the table, I rub my foot against his leg. "But from what I've heard, you haven't been so lucky."
When she realizes my meaning, she deflates a little. "Yeah. Do you remember that guy I told you about over the phone? The one I met a few years ago at summer camp? Turns out he wasn't a great guy to hang around. All he wanted to do was party and smoke weed. It's not like we were exclusive, but I caught him trying to flirt with other girls behind my back. He was a pig."
I wrinkle my nose. "Yeah, I don't blame you for feeling that way. I'm sorry, baby." Stroking her beautiful hair again, I add, "You deserve only the best."
