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My mom smiles widely. "Give an old lady something to distract herself, and let me take care of you," she says. "It's not often that Ryan brings home a girl—in fact, I don't think he's done it for years."
I chuckle, glancing over at Sophia. "You ready for the third degree?"
"I relish it," she says. "If there's anything I love to do, it's getting to know people."
My dad sits silently and listens, petting the dog with one hand and occasionally taking a sip of water. I get the feeling he wants to participate but that he's just feeling too weak—and I hate seeing him like this—but my mom makes up for it by bringing energy back to the house as she goes to the kitchen to make some tea.
"What do you do, Sophia?"
Sophia smiles. "A little bit of everything. I manage an upscale club full-time, but I'm also a tailor and designer."
"Ah...crafty," Mom says. "Did Ryan tell you I'm a quilter?"
Sophia's eyes light up. "No, he didn't! That's amazing. I've always wanted to try quilting, but I've never had the chance to."
"Well, you're welcome to come back any time, and I can teach you the basics," my mom says with a smile as she pours hot water into the teapot.
Sophia thanks her, and the conversation continues to flow as we all settle in around the living room. Dad dozes off a few times, but Sophia is always there to help him get comfortable, adjusting his pillows or bringing him a blanket. I'm grateful for her presence, knowing that if she weren't here, I would be responsible for taking care of my dad…and I'm not sure I could handle it the way she did.
As the evening wears on, my dad starts to look increasingly tired, and Sophia suggests we all get some rest. We help them both to their bedroom, making sure they're comfortable and have everything they need before saying goodnight.
I feel Sophia's hand on my shoulder as I shut the door.
"It must be hard seeing your parent’s age," she says softly. "But you're doing a great job taking care of them."
I turn to face her, my heart swelling with love for her.
"Thank you," I say, cupping her cheek in my hand. "You make everything better."
She leans in to kiss me, and I feel the weight of the day lift off me. Still, I can't stop thinking about watching my parents today—seeing how old and fragile they've gotten, realizing that I'll probably lose them soon. I can see the end of their lives unfolding before me...and I hate the thought.
It reminds me of what we talked about last night—starting a family of our own one day—and now I'm not sure if that would be a good idea at all.
"I hate seeing them like this," I murmur. "I can't imagine what it would be like if they were older."
Sophia chews her lip as she takes a seat on the couch, Tex jumping up into her lap like he belongs there. "I don't know," she says. "I think it's kind of beautiful...watching two people in love who are making sure to cherish every second."
"But it's hard to imagine them apart."
Sophia shrugs. "My parents didn't even like each other. I think...I think that was worse. Seeing the way they verbally abused one another. Watching two people grow old together is beautiful."
I know that we're talking around the issue—that this is becoming more about us than my parents—but I can't bring myself to articulate that. I think Sophia might, but she stops herself short.
"I'm pretty tired," she murmurs. "I think I might turn in myself. Are you coming with me?"
I shake my head. "I think I'll stay down here a while longer. I have a lot to think about."
Sophia gives me a soft smile, understanding in her eyes as she stands up with Tex in her arms. "I'll see you in the morning, then."
"Goodnight, Sophia," I say as she heads up the stairs. I watch her until she disappears from sight, then turn my attention back to the fire in the hearth.
The flames dance and flicker, casting a warm glow across the living room. I can hear the soft sound of the wind outside, and for a moment, I just sit there in silence, lost in thought.
My mind wanders back to my parents, to the way my dad struggled to walk up the steps to the porch. The way his speech was a little disjointed. It scares me—the idea that he might not be around forever. That my mom might not be around forever.
And then I think about Sophia, about the life we could build together. The family we could have. It's a comforting thought, but all I can think about is the ending.
Happily ever after only lasts so long.
